Misfits: Class A
by Underworld002
Summary: At 14, Ash finally achieves the opportunity to be one of the greatest Pokemon trainers in the world. He will be participating in the annual Pokemon League Championship, but sadly, things go downhill fast. Join the original gang -along with new spices to the mix- in a tale of epicness and bad guy kick-assery.
1. Chapter 1: Bada Bing Bada Boom

**Here it is, my first ever Fanfiction. Awesome right? I hope so. Anyways, I just hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it, and if not, well... I guess there's always next time right?**

**IMPORTANT: I DO NOT OWN POKEMON IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM! except for that one time, but it didn't last very long... JUST KIDDING!**

* * *

This is it: the lights, the crowd, the chilly winter air as hundreds of contestants walk alluringly into a large stadium; all of it breathtaking. Thousands upon thousands of fans litter the entire plaza, awaiting for the first round to begin; however, their excitement is put on hold as one of the announcers peers up the platform.

"Welcome!" he overpoweringly whelps into the microphone; the crowd thunders in response. The man smiles brightly and bares the microphone with both hands, "It is time for the annual Pokemon Championship to begin!" Again, the crowd roars from their stands, causing what appears to be a mini-earthquake within the concrete walls. Looking down from his podium, the man is very pleased to see how many contestants are participating this year. "I am glad to announce, that this year, we will be hosting the largest tournament in history, with over 600 Pokemon trainers! This is sure to be a blowout!" And with that said, the crowd goes wild; standing up from their seats, they clap. "We will begin the ceremony after these few messages from our sponsors! Trainers, if you will, please go to the Pokemon Enrollment Center to enter yourself into the tournament! Remember, the first round will begin at eight o'clock sharp; don't be late!" After finishing, the announcer leaves the podium, and the entire crowd erupts into even louder cheers. Soon after, all of the trainers exit the stadium, drowning the cheers into shallow echoes.

Outside, Ash Ketchum is walking side-by-side with his greatest rival, Gary Oak. "I'm gonna win this, Ashy-boy," says Gary unexpectedly.

Ash instantly halts; grasping his rival by the shoulder, he slings him around like a rag doll, "Ha," he mocks, "There isn't any way I'm gonna lose to you, Gary." The two boys stay standing toe-to-toe with one another: scowls on their faces -anyone can feel the static eroding between them.

After what feels like minutes, Gary mischievously smirks, "We'll see about that," and leaves Ash by his lonesome.

Shaking his head in utter disgust, Ash huffs out a heap of smoke from his throat, "That guy..." he snarls underneath his steamed breath, watching Gary continue down the sidewalk.

"Ash!" comes a very familiar feminine voice from behind.

Without bothering to see who it is, he chuckles, "Now who could that be?" Ash then turns around with a big smile pasturing his face, "Misty! Brock! Long time no see!" He waves to his best friends as they run towards him. His cheeks quickly begin sweltering up as they approach, seeing them always brings an uprising to his spirit, and since this is the most important day of his life, he really does need it.

When the dynamic-duo finally catch up to their pal, Misty lays a rib crushing bear hug on him, "I can't believe you actually made it!" she says, trying not to sound the least bit surprised. Knowing Ash, she understands how that settles with him. Answer being, poorly.

"Me too," he chokes out. Along with his spine, his entire chest cavity feels crushed in-between her monstrous hug. "Mis...mis...ty." He tries tapping her on the shoulder to release him, but it doesn't work.

"Well, just don't blow it," comes Brock's interjection, breaking up the hug between the two, relieving Ash of his misery, "But I doubt you will," he adds, "Everyone has full confidence in you Ash, and I know you won't disappoint us." He then gives him a stern pat on the back.

Still recovering from Misty's man hug, Ash fixes himself, and smiles graciously. His friends mean the world to him, and without them, this opportunity would've never existed, and he knows that. Everything he's accomplished, he owes to them. And looking at them right now, Ash says, "Thanks guys... for everything."

They nod, "You're welcome," comes their responses. However, they aren't fully aware of what he's thanking them for, but whatever it is, they're just glad he actually said thank you for once.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Misty asks, pointing to the tall building a few clicks ahead, "You better go and sign up. You don't wanna be late for the first round do you?"

A drip of sweat sprinkles down Ash's brow, "You're right Misty! I gotta go guys, see ya!" He waves a final time before rushing off.

Now by themselves, Misty and Brock watch as their best pal runs off to begin his most difficult challenge yet. "Do you really think he's gonna do good?" Misty asks cautiously, turning over to Brock.

"Guaranteed," he replies without hesitation, "Even if he doesn't win, Ash will put up a hell of a fight, and that's all we can ask for." Misty simply nods, and they then head back towards the stadium.

Meanwhile, a peculiar boy lays watching from atop a tree as the three friends depart. _'So, that's Ash Ketchum?' _he asks himself, knowing full well the answer. The boy chuckles slightly, and springs down the tree, "This year's tournament is gonna be interesting." He then leads himself to the sidewalk, and latches his eyes onto Ash's friends, "Interesting indeed..." and follows them sparingly behind.

At the Pokemon Enrollment Center, Ash waits anxiously behind a dozen or so people, all of them Pokemon trainers, and he takes note of everyone there. However, after a little surveillance, he finds himself a little disappointed, mainly because no one he knows -excluding Gary- is here. But what was he expecting? Only the most prestige trainers make it this far, and if he's honest with himself, most of the trainers he's fought were nothing short of mediocre; so, of course they aren't here. Anyways, with that aside, Ash notices that the line has moved up, and he takes his rightful spot as fifth in line.

**=0=**

"Come on Brendan hurry up in there!"

"Give me a freaking second will ya, May!" Brendan shouts from behind the bathroom door.

May shakes her head viciously, squeezing her fists with an almighty force, and bashes them against the door, "Aren't you forgetting I have a tournament?" she reminds him, threateningly. One more wrong move by Brendan and she might kill him.

"And aren't you forgetting I'm in the bathroom?" says he, who is about to get a royal ass kicking by the Pokemon fury, May.

She literally begins to boil under the spell of vexation, "Damn it, Brendan! Leave it to you to screw everything up for me!" In an effortless attempt to calm down, May starts to pace back and forth, gnawing at her tongue with each step. Why now, of all times, did he have to take a dump?

Hearing the restless pitter-patter of his friend's footsteps from outside, Brendan sighs and says, "Listen, just go ahead and sign up, and I'll meet you at the Pokemon Center, okay?"

Paying no regard to what he just mentioned, May stops when a light-bulb finally clicks on in her head, "I got it!" she proclaims to the heavens, "I'll go ahead and sign up, and meet you back at the Pokemon Center! What do you think?"

Not to his surprise, Brendan just sighs and goes along with it like usual, "Genius," he puffs. And without anything more than a single nod, May zooms out the door of the mini-mart, leaving her friend alone in peace. Brendan winches out a sly pout before hearing the faint _ding _from the store's entrance. "Thank God," he mumbles, and focuses his attention back to where it needs to be, the toilet.

Running as fast as she can, May sees a very large building in the horizon. _'That must be it.' _she thinks, taking in a rusty gulp. In all honesty, she is having mixed feelings about the tournament. Sure, she is excited, but she can't help having a slight, nauseating feeling saturate her gut. However, luckily by the time she arrives at the front doors, her jitterbugs vanish as quickly as they came, and she bursts through the glass doors to her destiny.

When inside, she is welcomed by dozens of trainers scurrying around chaotically in their pursuits to sign up. It's actually quite surprising to see so many young trainers accommodating the tournament this year, however for May, it doesn't matter how many there are because she is determined to beat them all. But before her wild fantasy can come true, she first needs to find a place to sign up. Which by all means, isn't going to be easy with all these people.

After awhile of constant scanning, she comes to the realization that every single sign-up booth is packed to the bone. Slightly annoyed, May decides that the best course of action is to go to the nearest one. _'Lane two...'_ she thinks to herself, shuffling over to it. In reality, there isn't too many kids in this particular lane -in fact, there's only four- but May isn't exactly what you'd call a patient person. "Hey kid," she says, thumping a young boy on the back of the head, "Let me in front."

"Ow!" Taking of his cap, he shifts his gaze over to her, "What was that for?"

Not being in the friendliest of moods -like usual- May elaborates a sense of annoyance with the younger boy, and says, "I said get out of my way," and harshly shoves him aside. But to her dismay, that little charade does not go unnoticed by a certain trainer.

"Hey what's your problem?" rings an unknown voice from the side.

Shocked, May swaps her focus to the voice's direction, and after seeing the guy who had spoken to her in such a way, she asks, "Who are you?"

The boy approaches her, "Doesn't matter," he snaps, "Why are you picking on him?"

"I wasn't picking on him; he was-" she looks down at the young kid -who couldn't be more than seven years old- and sees his eyes clogging up with tears. Having her better nature kick in, May sighs and moves from her spot, allowing the boy to pass; he complies with her gesture, and wipes away his stained cheeks, sniffling subtlety. "There," she scoffs, cloaking herself with a hateful look, "Happy now?"

"Yep." And without muttering another word, the mysterious male starts to wonder off, but stops to look back one more time, "Oh, and by the way, my name is Ash Ketchum." He then offers a smirk before leaving the building.

May grips the back of her bandanna, and begins talking to herself, "Well..." she tightens its knot, smiling impishly, "I look forward to battling you, Ash Ketchum." She then slowly cascades into a dream of how their battle will play out, with her of course winning.

"NEXT!" calls out the registrar, snapping May out of her daydream.

"Oh right," she chuckles, shamelessly, "Gotta sign up first," and realigns herself back into line.

**=0=**

In all retrospect, Brendan knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that the more time he spends with May, the more his sanity slowly starts to diminish. In fact, looking at the past year, has been nothing but hellish for the two of them. Conceivably enough however, he swears that May's fiery demeanor is the main source to their problems, and if she could somehow change, he might actually enjoy her company. Now of course, after knowing all that, one might ask, "Well, why doesn't he just leave?" If only things were that simple... Every time he's ever considered leaving, a presence so evil and loathsome unveils its gruesome head, persuading him to add substance to the storm and endure it. It is under this influence that causes Brendan to fear his own conscience, and he assures himself that it will eventually lead him to his death. He just doesn't know when...

"Finally," Brendan slugs open the market's door ... _ding_..., "Time to go set up." He heads down the busy street with a happy smirk plastering his face. He's actually very excited to see his friend in action, and who knows, maybe she'll give him a shout out or two if she wins. Or not, he laughs thinking about it, knowing May, she'll probably hog all the glory herself. Oh, the joys of having a complete spaz as a friend.

Within minutes, Brendan is back in front of the Pokemon Stadium, getting pumped for the first round, which by the way, is only a hour and a half away. "Who's ready for some Pokemon epicness!" he hears coming from the large crowd surfacing the middle of the plaza. They all cheer, rooting and tooting. Brendan smiles, _'Damn,' _he thinks, _'This is gonna be awesome.' _Adjusting the strap on his bag with a quick tug, he begins his short journey to the ginormous Colosseum before him.

On his way, he is halted by a large plaque shadowing the entrance, "The official Pokemon Championship Stadium," he reads aloud, "Where all are welcome to enjoy the blockbusters known as Pokemon!" Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Brendan continues in, absorbing the sheer size of it. Shaped like a dome, the sun shines like a dream on the inside, and adding to its foundation, are the hundreds of columns layering the upper portion of the spectacle, obviously being where the visitors sit. However, the most important part is the bottom half, grazed with blood, sweat, and lightly colored dirt, rests the heart of the stadium: the ring, or like others call it, Big Poppa's House.

He walks up the steep steps leading to the visitor stands, and sits on the very first row. _'Best seat in the house.' _He slouches into a comfortable position, and rests his feet up against the railing. "Perfect..." It's always a bonus to arrive early before the people pack in. "You better not slack, May," he speaks, and shuts his eyes, embracing the warmth of the sun.

A few minutes go by, and for some odd reason, he begins to feel he forgot something, but what?

"Oh shit! I forgot about, May!" He jumps up, and rushes down the steps. '_How on Earth could I forget about, May? For Heaven's sake, how much stupider can I get?' _He mercilessly begins harassing himself, bypassing the crowd, and nearly stumbles a couple of times, "Stupid rocks," he snorts, and tries his best to pick up the pace. If he's lucky, she might let him off without too many bruises, but probably not.

**=0=**

_'Where is he?' _May starts to wonder. She peeks out the window of the Pokemon Center, but sees nothing. As her rage tips its climax, she slams open the door, and storms out to the sidewalk, skeptically searching around for her bozo friend, who was supposed to be here by now. All she sees are a few bicyclers racing down the street. "Damn it!" she yells, preparing to pull her hair out. The entire scene brings attention to a passing biker.

He toys his bike to a sudden halt, "You okay over there?" he asks. Removing his helmet, he looks over to her, and reveals a thick pair of Sporting Good sunglasses.

May growls like a demon, "Just peachy," she spits out with more venom than a viper. Her eyes muster up a willow of intimidation, and the biker notices right away.

Taken aback by the girl's fortuitous hostility, the biker loses all sense of his words. A moment passes. Flashing a nervous smile finally, he hastily nuzzles his helmet back onto his head ..._snap_... comes the clicking under his chin, "Well, I guess since you're alright, I'll go," and ships off on his bike.

During the duration of his nimble get-a-way, May stays standing there, having a confused expression boat its way onto her face, _'What's his problem?' _

"May! May! I'm sorry I'm late!" It was obviously Brendan, who was combing up the sidewalk at an exceedingly fast rate.

"Speak of the devil!" May shouts. Even though she's upset with him for being late, she finds the way he plays it out adorably funny.

Panting like a dog, he arrives without a moment to spare, "I'm-" he gulps, trying to catch his breath, "I'm sorry for being late; the time just got away from me." He looks down towards the sidewalk, getting ready for one of May's dramatic episodes.

"Geez Brendan," she says; Brendan looks up, "What' gotten into you?"

"I-I-,"

"Don't sweat it Brendan, I'm not mad at you." She smiles, and pats her friend on the shoulder, feeling the sweat soaking his shirt, "Ya thirsty?" she asks, "I bet after that run you are." She reaches into her pouch -that's snugged nicely around her waist- and pulls out the holy liquid, "Here," she says, offering it to him.

Brendan snatches it from her, but does so with a puzzled look. "You didn't poison this shit did you?" he asks, looking discreetly at the water bottle.

May acts surprised, "Me? Of course not! Why?"

He shrugs, "Well, I'm just not used to you being like this."

"Like this?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says, gesturing to all of her, "This."

She bursts into laughter, "You're crazy, you know that Brendan?"

_'I could say the same thing about you too, wacko.' _he thinks to himself, watching her snort in laughter.

Eventually calming down, May swipes away the tears of joy streaming down her eyes, "Whelp," she says, clasping her hands together as if to say something else, but instead, ends up walking past him.

"Where are you going?" he asks her.

Refusing to stop, she looks back, "Gotta go to the stadium for the ceremony! Ya coming?"

"Oh yea, I totally forgot," he says, jogging up beside her, "Also, thanks for the water." He pops open the cap and takes a refreshing swig.

May grins, "Don't mention it." The two friends continue down the block, and Brendan makes it out without a single smack. "Oh right, forgot." **SMACK**.

"Ow! What was that for, May?" Brendan asks, rubbing his throbbing head, "You made me spill some water!" He looks down at his damp shirt and groans, immediately screwing back on the lid before any more surprises.

"That's for being late!" she tells him, laughing.

"Oh God..." he mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Nothing... nothing," he assures her, having a playful look in his eye. Yep, his sanity is slipping alright, but maybe it's a good thing.


	2. Chapter 2: Pokemon Center

**Ta-da! Chapter 2! Enjoy!**

**IMPORTANT: I DO NOT OWN POKEMON IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM! ... or do I? Nope, I checked.**

* * *

Life is a long harsh journey, feasting on its victims like children at a candy shop. Every step it forces you to take is yours alone; however to become great, you must first slap life by the balls and say, "Fuck you! I'm gonna fucking fly!" Nobody understands this better than Ash Ketchum. Born and raised in Pallet Town, he has grown from a young naive kid into...well- an older naive kid. But older nonetheless. And even though he never realized it before, after stepping foot into the largest Pokemon Stadium known to man, he smiles and says, "This is where I belong." He hears a snicker.

"Don't kid yourself."

Delaying not even the slightest second, Ash turns around. There isn't any mistaking that voice. It's an awful voice, and it makes him sick thinking about it. "Gary," he snarls, "What are you doing here?"

He starts laughing the laugh that always makes Ash cringe, "Why do you think shit-for-brains? I'm here for the ceremony starting in thirty minutes," he smirks devilishly and folds his arms, "What are you doing here, Ashy-boy? Come to soak in the view before you're sent packin'?"

Glaring deep resentment into the eyes of his rival, Ash stiffens up and clenches his bony hands into rigid, white knuckled fists. One more word and that's it; Gary is a dead man.

Unfazed by the death-scowl Ash is giving him, Gary continues to poke fun, "I bet even your mom is surprised you made it this far. Man, she's gonna be disappointed... or maybe not. You aren't even worth being disappointed over, -you're that much of a loser."

By now, Ash is trembling under his irritation. He doesn't know whether to attack him or just let it go. What happens if a trainer beats the snot out of another trainer? Jail? Being kicked out of the Pokemon League forever? Whatever it is, Ash doesn't wanna find out. "You know, Gary," he says; coming up beside him, he stares blankly into his eyes, "I'm gonna win this, and then I'm gonna shove my trophy all in your ugly face," he knocks him aside, "Bitch," and scurries out like a frightened gazelle.

Standing stunned in the stadium, Gary flashes a few quick blinks before realizing what just happened, but under the perplexity of _how_ it happened, that's all he does, blinks.

_'I showed him.' _Ash checks behind himself to make sure Gary isn't following, and seeing that he isn't, slows down. Damn Gary. He continues heading up towards the Pokemon Center at a fairly brisk pace. Hopefully by now, his Pokemon are well rested; he's really missing Pikachu. It's boring without the little rascal around. In fact, he misses all his Pokemon. They're like a family to him -a great, big, slightly strange family. And with Gary constantly breathing down his neck, they're also good backup. Speaking of backup, where on Earth are Brock and Misty?

**=0=**

Two words: Ice Cream. The delicious cream in the form of icy goodness. And according to Brock, "The best damn thing in the world," he says, sitting across from Misty in an ice cream parlor. He takes a few licks from the cone chilled between his hand, "Hmm... chocolate."

"Well, you better enjoy it cause when you get done, we gotta head back to the stadium, -the ceremony, remember?" Misty points out.

"Yeah yeah, ceremony; got it," he replies in-between licks.

Misty dazes out the window beside her, casually sighing, "I hope Ash does good," she comments, thinking about her crazy friend. She can't help but worry about him.

Brock brakes from his ice cream and looks at Misty. He can tell how upset she is, "Misty listen," he says while wiping his mouth; Misty looks at him, "Ash will do great. I know it, -trust me."

She weakly smiles, "Yea I know, but I can't help it. I don't wanna see him lose."

"So what if he loses?" he asks, "As long as he tries his hardest, what more could you want?" He leans down in his chair, and proceeds licking his cone (almost finished). He'll never know why Misty worries so much. Ash will be fine. He's sure of it.

Misty rolls her eyes and giggles, "Alright, alright," she finally caves, "You're right, Brock. I shouldn't worry." She watches him devour his cone with a final munch, and stands up when he's finished licking his fingers, "Ready?" she asks.

Brock burps and stands up beside her, "Yep, let's go; hopefully it hasn't started yet." They both exit the small parlor and coolly walk down the street to the stadium. It's around seven o'clock, and the sun has started to die down -almost like a sunset. It's been cool all day, but now with the sun going down, it's getting much more chilly.

"Brr... it's cold," chats Misty, "I hate winter." She feels a chill-streak run down her spine and groans.

Brock laughs, "Well, next time get a jacket," he says, smirking. Rolling her eyes again, Misty playfully shoves him aside, "Hey what was that for?" he asks, returning beside her.

"Dunno, just felt like it," she tells him -smile the size of Texas. Brock opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off when a loud, **BOOM! BAM! BOOM!**, is heard coming from a nearby tree. They both stop and look to their lefts and see a kid sprawled out under a thick oak tree. He looks badly hurt.

"Oh shit!" shouts Misty, and runs over to aid the boy. Brock follows. Arriving at the crash site, Misty squats down beside him, "Are you okay?" she asks, placing her hand gently on his back. She hears a timid groan. "Brock, help me get em' up!" she demands, and Brock obeys. He gets a hold of the boy's right arm -Misty the left- and they gradually start to lift him up. They notice dozens of scrapes and bruises all over his face and arms.

"Ow..." the boy whines, "This hurts... really bad." The two teens tuck his arms around their necks, and start to walk with him.

"What was you doing in a tree?" Brock questions. The boy doesn't answer.

"Brock! We have bigger issues right now. He's in dire need of a doctor," Misty addresses, "Poor thing, he looks terrible."

Brock grunts in agreement, "Any ideas?"

Her eye's widen, "Ugh... I think our best bet would be the Pokemon Center. I don't think there's a hospital around here."

Brock nods, "Okay, how far is it?"

"Shit... I think it's down the block," they come to the sidewalk, "This way," she says, and they head south.

**=0=**

Laughing, two teenagers are seen walking up the sidewalk, and after closer inspection it's Brendan and May. "So, you ready for this?" Brendan asks her.

"Hell yeah," sings May. The sun continues to set behind them in a yellowish tint, "God, where is everyone?" she asks, "It's like a ghost town." It's true; the entire sidewalk, along with every building, is empty.

"Probably at the stadium," he looks at his watch, "We got fifteen minutes 'till the ceremony starts, -seven fifteen right now."

May nods, "Yea, we got plenty of time," she says. They carry on with their path, but stop when they see three shadowy figures advance from the distance.

Brendan stops to look at May, "I think one of them's hurt." He points at the figures coming their way.

May squints her eyes, observing; she notices that the figure in the middle has its arms wrapped around the other two, "I think you're right," she says.

"Should we help them?" he asks her. Without hesitating, he already starts walking. She grabs his shoulder.

"I think they got it," she tells him.

He shakes off her grip, "I'm gonna help anyways. Go ahead and go to the stadium," he says, "It's fine."

"Whatever, Brendan," she coughs out annoyed. She leaves her friend behind and walks to the other side of the street, sidestepping the figures. Sometimes his better nature is too much for her to handle, _'Dumb Brendan, -always to the rescue.' _she thinks.

"Hey!" calls out Brendan, cupping his mouth, "You guys need some help!"

"Yeah!" one of them shouts back -clearly a female. He runs full speed and manages to arrive in short time.

"What happened?" he asks, a little out of breath.

"Not sure, -think he fell from a tree," Misty informs, "Do you know where the nearest Pokemon Center is?"

Amazed of how someone could fall from a tree in such a way, Brendan replies, "Yeah, just came from it."

"Show us!" both Misty and Brock commandingly holler, scaring Brendan senseless.

"Okay okay, follow me," Brendan says, and starts to lead them onward. The boy groans in pain, and Misty stops.

"Don't worry; you'll be fine," she whispers soothingly into his ear, seeming to calm him down. She clenches her teeth, _'I hope,' _and follows attentively behind Brendan. She's depending that the Pokemon Center will do something, but it's highly unlikely. She shutters thinking about, _'Please be able to help.'_

**=0=**

"Afternoon, Mr. Ketchum." says Nurse Joy. Ash approaches the counter with a gleeful smile.

"Afternoon," he says back, "Are my Pokemon ready?"

"Hmm... let me see," she turns to the computer, "Ah yes, your Pokemon are feeling great," she says, and lends him a pass-card, "Use this to enter the room to your right. Your Pokemon will be in their Poke-balls waiting for you."

Ash accepts the card, "Thank you," he says. He at once spots the room she was talking about and walks over to its door. About to slide the card through its slot, he is stopped by a sudden barrage through the front doors.

"We got wounded!" comes a scream. Ash's eyes flare open; he knows that voice, and it's not Gary either. It's... it's...

"Misty!" he ships around, but notices Brock too, "Guys! What's wrong?" He is shocked to see a barely stabled teen in their arms.

"Not now, Ash," Misty orders, and comes up to Nurse Joy's desk, "Please, can you help us?"

Nurse Joy immediately notices the boy hanging by a thread around their necks, "Dear Lord," she gasps, "What happened?" She sees another person enter through the door.

"He fell from a tree or so I'm told," recalls Brendan, entering the facility. Brock and Misty nod.

"Goodness!" Nurse Joy almost jumps out of her skin, "We gotta call the ambulance!" She rushes to the phone and dials 911. All of their hearts start throbbing, and a dark cloud of fear spreads across them like wild fires, dark, gloomy fires.

Ash walks over to his best friends, "How'd you find him?" He looks at the boy and sees deep cuts and bruises impinging his shattered body. His brown hair is scuffled into an absolute mess, his blue jeans are with holes -along with his official Pokemon League shirt-, and his shoes are sweating mud; it's a lot for Ash to take in. He didn't even get the chance to get his Pokemon back either, bummer.

Misty tries her best to look at Ash, but can't with the boy keeping her occupied, "He just fell outta nowhere," she explains, "Brock and I was going to the stadium when boom! He falls from a tree. I did what anyone would do and helped em' out." They can hear Nurse Joy muttering on the phone in the background.

"Yeah," Brock adds, "And then we ran into that guy over there." He uses his free hand to point to Brendan, "He lead us here." Ash follows Brock's point and sees a guy standing in the corner next to the entrance. Brendan waves to him, but doesn't say anything.

"I see..." implies Ash, waving back, "But what about this guy," he returns his attention back to the matter at hand, "Is he gonna be alright?"

Misty sighs, "I don't know; I hope."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you." Nurse Joy hangs up the phone, and sighs heavily without budging, "They said they'll be here soon," she informs the five teens.

"What!" Misty shouts impatiently, "Why not now!"

Nurse Joy spins around on her heels, "Calm down!" she responds, "Bring him to the Pokemon ER, and I'll see what I can do."

"Right," Misty says, "Let's go, Brock." They begin to follow Nurse Joy into the back room, leaving both Ash and Brendan alone.

"This is not how I saw my night going," says Brendan, finding a lounge chair to sit in, "What about you, kid? You know those guys?" He is referring to Brock and Misty.

Ash moves to the chair next to Brendan and sits, "Yeah, they're my friends."

"Did you come to see the tournament?" Brendan asks, reaching down to the glass table in front of them. He picks up the current issue of, _PokePalooza; Issue 9, _and strums through its pages.

"Actually," Ash adjusts his hat, "I'm in it."

Brendan tosses the magazine back onto the table and gives Ash a glint of surprise, "Then why are you here? The ceremony is in-," he looks at his watch, "Five minutes!"

Ash simply wavers him off and chuckles, "Don't get so worked up; I'll be there in time for the tournament, -that's all I care about."

Brendan shakes his head, "Yeah, but the ceremony is crucial. It's tradition, man."

Ash slouches into his chair, locking his hands behind his head, "Oh well, -not much into tradition."

Brendan can't help but to laugh, "Alright whatever, -doesn't matter to me." A few minutes pass.

After awhile, Ash finally feels obligated to ask something, "What about you?" he shifts back up in his chair, "You a trainer?"

Brendan shrugs, "I guess... I mean, I gotta few Pokemon," he motions to his bag, "Their Poke-balls are in here," he says.

"Sweet," Ash replies. It's always cool to meet a new trainer. Especially one who isn't a fighting lunatic -only cares about fighting. Just a cool guy and his Pokemon having adventures together. Nuff' said.

"Anyways," Brendan stands up, "I need to get going," he looks outside the window, "It's getting dark, and the ceremony's probably started by now." He offers his hand to Ash, "It was nice to meet you-"

"Ash Ketchum," Ash answers, shaking his hand.

"Right, -Brendan." The two then depart, and Brendan exits the building.

When Brendan shuts the door out, Ash sighs and stands up, "Better go check on Misty and them," he says, and follows their trail. He enters the emergency room and sees them all huddled around the injured boy, who's unmoving in the hospital bed.

"Quick!" shouts Nurse Joy, referring to Brock, "Hand me that wet sponge," she points over to the tray next to the bed. Brock doesn't hesitate.

"Here," he says, handing the dripping sponge over to her. She immediately starts dabbing it against her patient's wounds, cleaning them.

"Is he going to be okay?" asks Misty with a shaky voice.

"I don't know," responds Nurse Joy still cleaning his wounds, "If the ambulance will hurry up and get here."

"How long did they say?" interrupts Ash, coming up beside Misty.

"Soon," answers Nurse Joy, "That's all they told me." More time passes and nothing else is said -what was supposed to be a great night has turned into a nightmare. Nurse Joy continues to endure cleaning his wounds with the wet sponge, but begins to turn red in the face, "Where is the ambulance! I'm a Pokemon nurse not a human one, -I don't have the tools for this." Just as she says that, they hear loud sirens buzzing from outside.

Misty rushes out the door of the emergency room, chanting, "They're here! They're here!" Brock and Ash follow quickly behind. They burst through the front doors and see blinding lights of blue and red searing the darkness. They see a pair of paramedics exit the ambulance, rush to the back, and roll out a stretcher.

Misty waves to them, "Over here! Come quick!" she shouts over the loud siren. They respond instantly, bringing the stretcher up to the entrance.

"Show us," one demands. He didn't have to tell her twice. Misty urgently pushes open the door, and helps them through with the stretcher.

Once everyone is inside, Misty motions them forward, "This way!" she says. They all follow her. "Nurse Joy they're here!" Misty shouts, whamming open the emergency room's door. It startles Nurse Joy for a second, but then she realizes who's behind Misty, and moves out of the way so they can do their job.

"Rack em' and stack em'," says one paramedic to the other, and they stroll the stretcher beside the boy, breaking off -one carefully supports the boy's upper half and the other takes control of the legs-, "One, two, lift!" they say together, switching the boy onto the stretcher, strapping him in. And without a moment to spare, they rush out of the emergency room with Misty, Ash, Brock, and Nurse Joy all following in a jumbled line.

They arrive outside, and all anyone can see are the blue and red lights shining from the ambulance. It's dark, cold, and everything Misty hates about winter. The three friends -and Nurse Joy- watch as one of the paramedics swings open the ambulance's back door. He runs back to the stretcher, "Ready?" he asks, looking at his partner. His partner nods. "One, two, lift!" Both men lift with all their might, and eventually manage to heave the stretcher back into the ambulance. One hops into the back and shuts the door, while the other pulls to the front, opening its door.

"Please, take care of him!" Misty shouts. The man nods and enters the ambulance. He drives off within seconds. They watch until the lights eventually fade; all is quite. Not exactly the way Ash was wanting to start his Pokemon League Championship, but at least he has a story to tell.

They all walk back inside. Nurse Joy goes back to her duties behind the counter, Misty stumbles into a lounge chair to recollect herself, and Brock dives into a nearby vending machine for a snack (or three). Leaving Ash with one thing: To get his Pokemon. He checks his pocket -the card is still there- and walks back over to the door, and slides the card between its slot. The light clicks green, and he opens the door.

Stepping in, he sees dozens of large containers consisting of Poke-balls, each one having a name above it. He then looks through every isle, but can't find his. Getting annoyed, Ash checks all of them one more time, but still sees nothing. He walks out of the room and starts at Nurse Joy, "Um... I looked, but mine isn't there." He looks at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, it reads: _7:42 p.m._ "And I gotta get to the stadium for the first round," he tells her.

She gives off an outlandish look, "That's weird," she says, "I remember putting yours in there."

Ash shakes his head, "Well, they're not."

Nurse Joy sighs and walks from behind the counter, "This could be trouble," she says.

**Psssh!Boom!Brimm! **The two freeze as they hear loud clashes coming from the kitchen area. It spooks Misty and she jumps from her chair, "What was that?" she asks.

Brock walks over to her, dumping a few bags of chips onto the glass table, "I heard it too," he says.

"We better go check it out," concludes Ash, and starts heading towards- whatever it is. They all follow behind him.

They enter a small cooking area -a few stoves, microwaves, some pots and utensils, and a counter- but there isn't any sign of what happened. Until, they hear a shriek from within the lobby, "Meowth, shut up! Do you want the brats to hear you!" Naturally, all four run out to see what's going on, and not to their surprise, it's Team Rocket trying to pull a fast one.

Ash notices that James is carrying a large sack on his back, and it doesn't take a genius to know what's in it: Poke-balls. Or more specifically, _his_ Poke-balls. "Stop right there ya crooks!" Ash calls out. The not-so-sly Team Rocket stops in their tracks.

"Oh great..." Jessie moans, "It's the brats," she looks evilly at Meowth, "This is all your fault, -I told you to shut up."

Meowth waves his hands innocently, "Hey don't blame me; you're the one whose gotten's us into trouble, and-" Jessie pummels him into the ground before he says any more.

"I said shut up!" she barks, holding a fist threateningly at Meowth. He meows in pain.

"Ugh... Jessie?" James taps on her shoulder.

She glares at him, "What is it!" she screams. He points warily at the brats, "Oh right, sorry about that," she apologizes.

"It's quite alright, Jessie," says James, giving her a signal, "Ready?"

"Quite," she replies. They take their stances, "Prepare for trouble," Jessie says.

"And make it double," James adds.

Jessie jumps onto the counter, "To protect the world from devastation."

James jumps up beside her, crossing his arms, "To unite all peoples within our nation."

Panning back to Jessie, she says, "To denounce the evils of truth and love."

Now James, "To extend our reach to the stars above."

"Jessie."

"Hmm James."

"Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light!" she says.

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!" Silence. "Meowth?" asks James; no response. They look around and see the fuzzball laying flat on the floor. If this was a cartoon, they might actually see birds chirping over his kitty head. James looks over to Jessie, "Why did you have to hit him so hard?" he asks.

She shrugs, "It felt good," she replies, jumping down from the counter. James does too. When they're down, they notice that the brats are missing, and so is the bag! "James, what did you do with the bag?" she asks.

"I- uh... placed it down while we was doing our motto," he confesses, regretting it instantly.

"You idiot!" she slams her fist hard against his noggin, "They took it!"

Rubbing his pulsating head, James stumbles with his balance, "Why did you have to hit me so hard?" He falls over unconscious, landing on Meowth.

"Meowth!"

Jessie grovels in her annoyance, "Idiots," she spits out. She then picks up the two dunderheads and walks out before the police arrive.

**=0=**

It wasn't too challenging to retrieve the bag. In fact, it was too easy. Ash, Misty, and Brock wave goodbye to Nurse Joy as they walk down the darkened street -their only light source are the light poles- "Are you sure you don't wanna us to take care of Team Rocket?" Ash asks, turning around.

"Pika Pi!" adds Pikachu with fire burning in its small, raisin eyes. It's wanting some action after being in a Poke-ball for so long.

Nurse Joy shakes her head, "It's fine!" she responds, "You guys need to go to the tournament, and I doubt they're still there!" They can't argue with that logic. It's not like Team Rocket to stay in one place for too long. Also, the tournament starts in ten minutes, leaving just enough time for Ash to get there. It doesn't take long for him to decide.

"Alright!" Ash shouts, "Thanks for the help and everything!" Now accompanied with Pikachu on his shoulder, Ash, Misty, and Brock carry on to the stadium.

**=0=**

Loud sirens are heard throughout several homes as an ambulance passes by. Its flashing lights glow, alerting cars to move out of its way. Taking sudden turns and shortcuts, the ambulance is carrying a very injured teen, and there isn't any room for slacking.

Bump after bump, a paramedic stays sitting beside the teenager, keeping him under control. "You're gonna be fine," he assures him, "We're almost there."

The boy tries his best to smile, but it hurts too much. Instead, he forces a blink, "Thank you," he gasps out. His breaths are slow and shallow -anything more and it stings like a pack of needles.

The paramedic warmly smiles when the boy can't, "If it's not too much, -what's your name?"

Chokingly, the boy takes a small breath to answer, "C...Cyan..." The last thing he remembers before blacking out: the man's smile, but besides that, everything else is lost in darkness. Lonely darkness...


	3. Chapter 3: Getting the Show On The Road

**Chapter 3! Enjoy!**

* * *

_'Run, run, run as fast as I can. If I can't make it, nobody can.' _This is Brendan's thoughts as he swiftly darts through the gloomy streets confided in the night. He peeps down at his watch, _'7:50, still got time,' _he thinks, swallowing a cold breath. He can see the stadium's night defying lights shine like Vegas in the distance. So close, but yet so far. He tries his best to pick up the pace, but it's definitely a struggle. He gasps as he runs, clawing for more precious air. It's cold, exceedingly cold. Or so it seems, it's possibly because he's running and the wind is sticking to him like horse-glue. Hopefully, he'll be there in time for the best part: the fireworks. They're amazing really, they shoot up like rockets and explode into thousands of crystals, creating shapes and symbols and other beautiful images.

His legs burn chilly, and he crosses the street to the other side. Closer, he can almost taste the concrete of the stadium. He drives himself into an intense sprint, crosses more streets. Almost there, just a football field to go. His feet touch the marbled plaza surrounding the stadium, just fifty yards to go. The lights become more vivid than day now, and he can hear loud cheers echo as the warmth of the stadium spreads across his cheeks. He's there.

He looks around and sees thousands of people hovering over their stands, and soon finds himself running up the steps to grab a seat: Eighteenth row, chair number 2,234. It isn't the best seat in the house, but it'll suffice; he sits down. At least it's warm in the stadium. He can hear the announcer below rambling about how great it is to be here, but Brendan is more concerned about finding May; there's so many trainers down there it's hard to pick out a single one. Maybe if he looks for her bandanna- nope, there's dozens of them with bandannas. What about Ash? He almost forgot about that kid. He scours through the hundreds of faces below, but doesn't see him either. Where is he? Is he still at the Pokemon Center?

He hears the people beside him clap and cheer and go wild almost. He looks down at his watch again, _7:56, _and still no sign of Ash, or May for that matter. But he's sure she is down there somewhere. And who knows, Ash might be too.

He sits up straight in his chair and soaks in the view. He sees a giant billboard counting down to showtime; he counts with it. Three more minutes. The crowd seems to grow more ecstatic after every second. Two more minutes, and then the fireworks, and then game on. _Ticktock ticktock, _the board continues to countdown, and Brendan can feel his heart beating alongside it. Louder and louder, the spectators cheer.

The announcer finally leaves the podium and journeys down to where some men await to set off the fireworks. He gives them a signal with his hand, and **FLOOSH!** the fireworks go. Up in the air, the speeding missiles crackle, and then **BOOM! **colors of red and blue, pink and green burn forth, showering the dark sky with their glitter; Brendan's eyes sparkle watching it. More continue to shoot up, bringing more colors to life: Beauty at its finest. Green and more green, red and more red, and a touch of blue, rain down from the sky. And with every firework lost, another takes its place.

"Ready for the finale!" comes a loud blare through the stadium's speakers. The crowd cheers louder than ever before, and even Brendan lets out a brief yelp. **FLOOSH! PIRR! BROOM! **Dozens of fireworks glisten in the sky, exploding simultaneously. And after a moment, the image is clear: it's a giant Poke-ball.

"Wow..." whispers Brendan to himself. He watches as the gas Poke-ball eventually dies out, leaving the dark sky to itself. He feels a chill rampage down his spine -talk about excitement. And now, all that's left is the tournament. Brendan smiles, "Here's to you May," and stands up from his seat, shouting, "WOO! YEAH! YOU GOT THIS MAY!" It's not like him to do this, but come on... it's his friend.

**=0=**

"We gotta go guys! The tournament is startin'!" shouts Ash, pacing into a run. After seeing the fireworks shoot off, the gang realizes how late they are.

"Pika!" screeches Pikachu, bouncing up-and-down on Ash's shoulder. Misty and Brock cloud closely behind them. They can see the stadium's lights, but they're too far away to get there by foot.

"Ash!" shouts Misty, catching up next to him, "We're not gonna make it running." Ash stops cold and looks at her.

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" he asks. Brock approaches them from behind, completely out of breath.

Misty thinks for a second and checks around. All she sees are a few buildings, a bank, and a bicycle shop... A BICYCLE SHOP! "Ash, look!" she attracts his attention to her point, "There, see?"

Ash nods, "Let's go," he says. They rush over to the shop and burst open the door. There's a plump man standing behind a counter, counting his daily earnings; the gang walks up to him.

The old man looks at them with a welcoming smile, putting his money back into the register, "Howdy," he says with a croak, and pushes up the thickly framed glasses on his face, "Come to buy a bike?" He doesn't wait for a response; instead, he walks around the counter and starts with a tacky car-seller tactic, "We have all sorts of bikes," he tells them, directing their gazes all around the shop, "Machs, Turbos, Contractibles, even ones with vibrating seats!" His smile thickens after mentioning that last one.

A little weirded out by someone needing a bike with a vibrating seat, all three shake their heads, "No, we're not here to buy a bike," says Ash, "We need to borrow some."

Blown away by what he just heard, the man's face turns tomato red and his eyebrows start twitching, "What!" he fumes, glasses almost falling off his chubby face, "Get out of here!" He starts to bicker at them, shooing them away from his store. He manages to kick them out finally, but keeps his door open to chew them out some more, "Don't come back unless you're looking to buy!" He forcefully slams the door in their faces, earthquaking the outside exterior of the small store.

Ash then sits on the curb dishearten, and so does Brock and Misty, "Any other ideas?" he asks.

Misty shakes her head and sighs, "I don't know." Brock doesn't even answer.

"There has to be a way," Ash says, hoping for a miracle. He looks up at the star-written sky, feeling a cool breeze flutter against him and closes his eyes to think, but nothing comes to mind. He starts to feel Pikachu tussle around on his back, "What about you, Pikachu?" he asks, "Any ideas?"

"Pika Pi," it answers, shaking its head no.

Ash smiles kindly, "Oh well, worth a try." The gang remains sitting there, thinking.

A few cars pass by, and Misty begins hashing out an idea; she stands up, "I got it!"

Brock and Ash jump up, "What is it?" Ash asks, and more cars zoom by. He's willing to listen to any plan that will get him to the stadium on time -even if it_ is _Misty's.

She smiles and points towards a nearby stoplight, "If we wait for a truck, we can hitch a ride."

Ash contemplates over Misty's idea, eventually agreeing, "Fine, let's do it." He then consults with his backbuddy, "Are you okay with this, Pikachu?"

It nods its head, "Pika Pi."

They near the stoplight, waiting, and miraculously enough they see a set of headlights emerge from down the road, and the light blinks red, indicating them to get ready. Here it comes. Closer. Closer. It's a truck!

"Quick!" shouts Misty, "Hide behind the bushes!" All three respond efficiently, hightailing it behind a row of untrimmed bushes.

"What now?" whispers Brock. As he asks this, the truck comes to a squealing halt.

Misty doesn't answer his question, shouting, "Now!" They dash forward, drilling through the bushes, and hurriedly spring into the truck's bed, laying flat on their stomachs against its cold metal. They made it, and the driver didn't even notice. Now all they have to do is remain quiet and still until they get to the stadium.

Farthering down the road, Ash starts to feel squirmish -it's a tight squeeze in the truck with Brock and Misty on his left and right. He wiggles around, accidentally bopping Misty on top the head with his sharp elbow.

"Ow, Ash!" she loudly whispers, rubbing her head, "Stop moving, -you're gonna get us caught."

Ash adjusts slightly more before stopping, "Sorry, Misty," he apologizes in a whisper, "Didn't mean to. It's really uncomfortable here."

Misty sighs quietly, "Yeah, I know. It shouldn't be too much longer till' we're there though."

Ash responds with a smile, shifting his arms under his chin for cushioning -the scrapey metal is a pain on his stomach. He can hear Misty's teeth chatter, and laughs in a mute tone, "Ya cold, Misty?" he asks.

She shivers out a small nod, "Y-yeah."

He can't blame her; it has to be at least forty degrees tonight. And riding in the back of a small pick-up truck doesn't help. Ash leans over to Brock -who hasn't spoken much of anything- "You cold too, Brock?" he asks.

"Not really," he answers, "I don't get cold." Ash doesn't say anything to that; however, he does chuckle a little.

"How about you, Pikachu?" Ash then moves on to the small Pokemon laying on his back, "You cold?"

"Pik-achu," is its answer.

He isn't sure what that meant -probably a yes- but in all seriousness, he's feeling a bit nippy himself; he can already see his breath. They have to be nearing the stadium by now; it's been a good three minutes, and if they don't hurry up and get indoors, Misty might turn into a snow-cone.

It doesn't take long for the trio to finally start hearing cheers rumble from the distance; they made it, barely. Ash peeks up from behind the driver, seeing the stadium in all its mighty glory. He feels a harsh tug on his pants.

"Ash get down," whispers Misty, "The driver's gonna see you."

Ash swats her hand away, "Shut up, Misty, -I'm taking in the view."

With her face burning bright like a pepper, Misty grabs him by his scrawny neck and slings him down, "Don't tell me to shut up!" she yells, not realizing she's standing up

Ash feels his brain convulse to the back of his skull as he hits the rough metal, groaning in pain, "M-Misty," he tries speaking, "W-why did you do that?" He blinks a few times before noticing that Misty is towering above him, glaring down his very soul with her unforgiving eyes of destruction. He lifts up his sore neck and looks around: Brock is sitting with Pikachu resting between his arms, and Misty is still staring demonically at him. Blood starts rushing to his head as the pain begins to subside; he sits up (back against the tailgate.) He motions his hand downwards, "Sit down, Misty," he says sluggishly, "You're gonna get us ca- in trouble." He still isn't fully recovered from that painful experience, and his vision grows somewhat blurry.

Misty rolls her eyes, but does what she is told. Thankfully, because of the driver's loud country music, he hasn't noticed them.

Ash takes in several slow breaths, and he can feel his headache fading along with his vision returning. The rest of the ride is spent in silence; and as the truck pulls into a large parking lot, the gang jumps out before being caught. They all run with Olympic speed and touchstone with the marbled plaza; Ash is lost in amazement of the stadium's majesty and embraces it for a moment. He feels a cold hand tap his shoulder; he glances: it's Brock.

"Here, Ash," he says, handing Pikachu over.

Ash takes his small pal and rests it on his shoulder, patting its head, "Ready, Pikachu?" he asks.

A spark of electricity flies from its cheeks, "Pika!" it shouts, smiling.

Ash smirks back, "Me too." Without wasting anymore time, the gang takes to the stadium.

**=0=**

It's official: Ash is not here. Or, so it seems to Brendan. Still sitting in his seat, he watches as all the trainers leave the building for a second time now. According to the announcer, the first round begins in five minutes. '_Let's see if Ash can make it,'_ he thinks, slouching comfortably into his seat.

A few moments in time eventually pass, and there still isn't any sign of Ash. Will he make it? Brendan looks down to the stadium, rubbing his chin. Ash better make it -he wants to see how strong of a trainer he is.

Getting a little worrisome, Brendan turns to his watch, _8:03, _two more minutes. Still, nothing. _'Come on, Ash,' _a drip of sweat splotches down his forehead, _'You can make it.' _One more minute. He sketches his eyes through the crowd and notices right away: a set of figures a few rows down; it appears they're looking for their seats. Wait a second... Brendan leaps up from his seat to assume a better angle, and after observing, he sees that one of them is a girl. A girl with orange hair? No, red? Anyways, he knows that girl -it's the girl from the Pokemon Center. So, if she's here, then Ash must be too. Brendan let's out long, anticipated sigh of relief and plops back into his seat. _'Good,' _he smirks, _'He made it.' _He pops a few of his knuckles and then his neck. It's showtime!

The announcer stumblingly steps up to the podium once more and grabs hold of the microphone, "Are you reeeeaaady!" he intrudes into its amp; everyone -even Brendan- stands up from their seats to cheer, "Let's get this show on the road!" He points heavily to the giant Jumbotron consisting of all the trainers' names, "Let's see who will be going first! Audience, if you will, I want you to scream at the top of your lungs: Spin that dial!"

"Spin that dial!" they all chant, and watch as two random faces begin to be drawn from the Jumbotron. Rotation after rotation the two slots spin, stopping on anyone at anytime.

Brendan spectates with wide eyes, crossing his fingers for May -it's unlikely, but possible. It finally starts to slow down, and the faces become clearer. It skips several more until stopping firmly on two trainers; a moment of silence sweeps across the entire stadium as the crowd sees who will be kicking off the tournament.

"Trainers Jessica Green and Levi Delvecchio, please come to the stadium at this time!" shouts the announcer into the microphone, "Trainers Jessica Green and Levi Delvecchio, please come to the stadium at this time!" he repeats. It takes only a minute before two trainers are seen landscaping across the battlefield to their positions; the crowd cheers in delight. Round One has officially begun.

**=0=**

Brendan fixes himself in his seat and studies the two trainers. Jessica Green: age, 16; tall, tan, and blonde; but not too blonde. She is on the left side, getting charged up for her fist match against Levi Delvecchio: age, 15; short, stubby, and black hair. Either way, these trainers fail to surface up much of a challenge -so Brendan thinks- but maybe they'll prove him wrong. _'Guess we'll see,' _he concludes.

Still intertwined with the podium, the announcer prepares for the first match, "Jessica Green, are you ready?" he asks through the speakers.

"Yeah!" she shouts, sticking her thumb up in the air.

The announcer nods in approval, "Levi Delvecchio, are you ready?"

"More than I'll ever be!" he hollers for the whole stadium to hear.

"Then it is my pleasure to announce that the first match may begin!" The announcer then leaves his podium and heads towards the faculty lounge for a quick coffee and donuts break.

Fire consumes both trainers' eyes, and they release their starter Pokemon. "Go, Scrafty!" shouts stubby Levi, and twirls the Poke-ball forward. Within a moment, a bizarre looking creature streams forth from its Poke-ball.

"Go, Toxicroak!" Jessica follows up, tossing her Poke-ball onto the battlefield. A purplish, blueish frog-like creature bursts out into a rage of fierceness.

Brendan watches with great interest, _'I see... so we have a frog versus a-a what is that?'_

"Scrafty use headbutt!" Trainer Levi shouts. Scrafty follows orders without question, charging head first at the opposing frog.

Jessica chuckles a bit before shouting, "Toxicroak Sucker Punch now!" And before Scrafty even knows what hit it, the purple fury frog throws a teeth shattering blow under its chin, sending it spiraling through the air back to its trainer; that really gets the stadium going.

Levi sulks in horror -for his precious Pokemon has fainted. Scowling, he calls for Scrafty to return; all he has now is one more Pokemon. He tears through his bottom lip, and wipes away the stinging sweat from his bushy brow, _'Gotta make this count,' _he thinks. He reaches to the other Poke-ball on his belt and surveys it, _'Don't let me down,' _and chucks it forward, "Go, Gothitelle!" Another Pokemon takes to the battlefield, and the crowd claps.

"Whoa..." Brendan gawks at the Pokemon Levi just called out, "What Pokemon is that?" He quickly unzips his bag and pulls out his Pokedex, flipping it open.

"Gothitelle- the Psychic Pokemon," it explains in its robotic voice, "They can predict the future from the placement and movement of the stars. They can see trainers' life spans."

Brendan snaps the Pokedex shut and shoves it back into his bag, "Cool," and proceeds watching the match.

Levi smiles triumphantly and demands, "Gothitelle use Psybeam!" Rich, blinding colors of light execute from its palms, punishing the Toxicroak within seconds.

Jessica tries to rebuttal her Pokemon, "Toxicroak get outta there!" but it's too late, the frog is already sucked into Gothitelle's damnating attack. It croaks in pain as its body fidgets uncontrollably.

All around: the crowd is going berserk with excitement, but not Brendan, he's observing with discreet concern. '_Is that Toxicroak going to be okay?' _he wonders. He listens as it croaks in agony from Gothitelle's merciless onslaught,_ 'This has to stop, otherwise that Toxicroak might scrape up a serious injury.'_ Brendan stands up, ready to speak out, but is stopped when Levi suddenly calls off the attack.

"That's enough, Gothitelle!" he enforces onto his Pokemon. Gothitelle cancels the attack as requested, and Toxicroak falls over like a domino.

Jessica's legs tremble, "T-T-Toxicroak, return," she says shakily, and uses the Poke-ball in her hand to retire her badly damaged Pokemon, for now.

Brendan relaxes back into his chair, _'Wow, that was intense,' _he thinks.

Jessica inhales deeply, settling her nerves, and grabs her last Poke-ball, _'You got this baby,' _she thinks, kissing the Poke-ball before throwing it, "Go get em', Umbreon!" she shouts top-pitched, throwing the Poke-ball. Out comes another Pokemon bursting with red aura. The Umbreon stands ready for an attack, scoping out Gothitelle with an intent to win. No more games; it's serious.

Levi feels a tad bit uneasy, _'Damn, it's an Umbreon; this is gonna be tough.' _He focuses down the stadium to Jessica, and starts to muster up a possible game-plan. "Gothitelle attack the Umbreon with your Double-Slap!" he instructs, and Gothitelle does not disobey. It lunges forward with great speed.

"Dodge it Umbreon, and use Quick Attack!" Umbreon manages to evade Gothitelle's attack, and returns the favor with a harsh blow to its stomach. Gothitelle cries out in pain, and is shot back a few feet.

"No!" shouts Levi angrily, "Gothitelle hurry and get up!" It tries its best to recover, but it isn't enough, and it falls hard on its face.

Jessica smiles victoriously, "Umbreon finish it with Feint Attack, now!" she shouts. Umbreon follows to-the-letter and does not disappoint; its entire self starts to glow whitish, and dark orbs of light begin revolving around its body. Before long, Umbreon hurdles the orbs with all its might towards its foe, ripping through Gothitelle's body like butter.

"No!" shouts Levi once more, watching as his Pokemon is sent flying across the stadium. The whole crowd goes absolutely bonkers by the sight. Levi closes his eyes and groans in anger; he then looks at his Pokemon knocked out on the ground and holds up his Poke-ball, "You did good Gothitelle, return." In a flash, the Poke-ball sucks up the fainted Pokemon.

A referee runs out into the middle of the field and holds up a green flag on Jessica's side, "Winner!" he shouts; the crowd roots for Jessica as she calls back her Umbreon. She smiles and graciously bows.

Brendan stands up and claps heartily, "Great match," he says. He sits back down as both Levi and Jessica exit the stadium. _'On to the next one.'_

After enjoying his delicious coffee and donuts, the announcer returns to the podium, "Wow! What a match!" The crowd roars. "Are you ready for the next one?"

"Yeah!" everyone screams.

The announcer points to the Jumbotron once again, "Spin that dial!" he tells it, and the cycle restarts itself. The two slots start to spin, landing on anyone at anytime. Spinning, spinning, spinning, it starts to unravel slowly, and eventually stops on two unsuspecting trainers; two faces are revealed on the screen, and another surge of silence crosses the stadium.

Brendan face-palms himself, "Un-be-lievable," he utters under his breath, looking at the two faces currently occupying the board.

"Will trainers Ash Ketchum and May Norman please come to the stadium at this time! Ash Ketchum and May Norman come to the stadium at this time!" shouts the announcer into the microphone.

Brendan sits up attentively in his chair, _'This just got a whole lot more interesting...'_


	4. Chapter 4: Ash vs May

It's showtime; Ash's first match in the Pokemon League is underway. As he barrels through a dark, narrow passageway leading to the arena, his ears tune in to the crowd's thunderous chants vibrating between the walls; his heart is racing like a speeding bullet.

Off in the shadowy distance, he sees a burning light chassing like a shell through the corridor. He's almost there; the cheers continue to blossom even louder. Closer, the light hinders forth; he pursues it, hearing every ounce of the earsplitting masses. He can already taste the sweetness of victory: the trophy. his name up in lights. He must win.

The once dim light has now come into full view; he ascends into it, stepping foot onto the dirt covered battleground. All around him, he sees thousands of fresh faces calling his name, "Ash! Ash!" they all chant. Abrupt flashing of photographers blind him; he shields his eyes. A strong stench of sweat chars his nostrils, and he strenuously pushes onward to his line-up position.

On the opposite end, awaits his opponent. _'Wait a sec,' _Ash squints his eyes, eagling his render, _'I know that girl,' _he takes note of her green bandanna, _'I knew it; she's the one I ran into earlier today.' _

The girl with the green bandana waves to him, "Hi, Ash!"

Awkwardly, he waves back, "Ugh- hi!"

Not much else is spoken between them as the announcer interrupts their reunion with his obnoxiously rowdy voice, "This match is scheduled between May Norman of Littleroot versus Ash Ketchum of Pallet!" He pauses, allowing the crowd to cheer some more. "Are both trainers ready?"

They nod their heads.

"Then let the match begin!"

Both trainers shoot for their Pokemon; May smiles maliciously, studying the Poke-ball in her glove-concealed palm, _'Get ready to lose, Ash.'_

However before she can send it out, Ash slings forth his Poke-ball, shouting, "Charizard I choose you!" A ferocious fire dragon is seen bursting from its Poke-ball onto the field. It kicks back its snout, letting out a glass-shattering roar. The crowd rumbles insanely.

Spectating from uptop: Brendan leans forward, "Wow! A Charizard!" He enjoyably watches as the magnificent Pokemon launches out a breathtaking fireball from its gaping mouth, but soon he finds himself cutting back to May's angle; he feels slightly concerned, _'You can do this, May. I know you can.' _All of a sudden, he feels a tap against his arm. He turns his head around and sees an agitated old man glaring at him.

A few gray hairs the old bat possesses stand pointy as tacks upon his balding, wrinkle-infested scalp, "Would you please sit down?" the old coot rasply nags, "I can't see."

Brendan gives the man an apologetic look, "Sorry," and listening to his elder, he sits.

Down on the field: May freezes up like a deer for a moment -startled by the Charizard Ash just summoned- _'Shit,' _she wipes away a few sweat droplets bathing her forehead; and squeezes her Poke-ball, _'Don't let me down,' _and throws it, "Get em', Blaziken!" she shouts to the roof. In turn, the Poke-ball flings open, releasing a large bird of fire. May smirks arrogantly, _'No way Ash is gonna beat me.'_

"You got this, May!" from behind, she hears coming from the stands; it's a very easily noted voice.

She laughs, _'I know I do, Brendan.'_

Meanwhile, Ash is studying her Blaziken with optimal focus, _'Okay, how am I gonna play this out?' _he wonders.

Uptop -a few rows down from Brendan- sits both Misty and Brock, "This match is going to be tough for him," says Misty.

Brock isn't sure whether to agree or disagree; so, he just stays quiet, studying both trainers on the field.

The stadium soon starts to grow silent from the tension escalating down below; before long, everyone is quiet. Ash and May both notice this, and they gulp; the time has now come for one to call the first move.

_**Beat, pulp, beat, pulp. **_Ash can hear his heart patter with every shallow breath; it's so quiet. He shifts his gaze over to his Charizard standing ready for any call; he then grabs the bill of his hat, twists it backwards, and shouts all in one motion, "Charizard use Flamethrower!" In that instance, silence becomes deafening music of cheers, and Ash smiles hugely. Everyone watches as a chaotic ball of fire bursts from Charizard's mouth, burning like an inferno down the stadium.

Without hesitating, May calls for her Blaziken to retaliate, "Dodge it!" A swift move of the legs, Blaziken evades the attack with ease; and the fireball punches into the concrete wall behind May, exploding.

Brendan is impressed by his friend, _'Great speed,' _he thinks.

"Now, Blaziken use Blaze Kick!" May shouts, spilling sweat from her pores. Blaziken bolts forward in a streaking blitz.

_'So much speed,' _Ash thinks frantically, and tries to call Charizard off, "Use fly!" he shouts, but done too late. Within the zone of a fragile second, a fiery kick rips through the jaws of the dragon, and it roars in pain as it is drilled into the cold ground.

"Yes!" gloats May, pumping her fist in the air, "Finish it with Sky Uppercut!"

"Charizard get up!" shouts Ash, watching in fear as the uppercut nears his Pokemon's skull. Everywhere around him, he is mocked with cheers. "Charizard!" The dragon lays flat on the dirt groaning, unknowing to the hurting about to be bestowed upon it. Ash trembles in his own fright; slow motion, it almost seems.

"I can't watch!" squeals Misty, shielding her eyes, "Tell me when it's over." She's already imaging the inevitable defeat coming from that uppercut, but stops when unexpected cheers erupt beside her. She peeks between her fingers, seeing Brock also cheering. _'What the-' _she lets down her hands; and right before her doubting eyes: sees Charizard standing with all the strength it has left, holding stalemate with the Blaziken. She springs forth like a diving board, "That's what I'm talking about!" she shouts.

Moving up a few rows: Brendan stays sitting, "Nicely done, Ash," he congratulates mutely. He then looks over to May, "What's your next move?"

May feels her face becoming warm with perpetual annoyance, _'Damn it!' _she scolds in her mind, bickering about what to do next. She continues to watch the two beasts go at it in stalemate, _'Think, May... think!' S_he closes her eyes, and before long, they whiz back open, "Blaziken Focus Energy!" she finally demands. Hearing its master, Blaziken pushes away from Charizard and starts to glow red with energy; the earth starts to quake from beneath it.

Ash realizes what's going down -and it's not going to be pretty- "Charizard fly!" he snaps. This is his only option to evade the attack. Charizard roars and takes to the sky in a matter of seconds; its huge wings grace the air as it flaps. Ash relieves a sigh when Charizard is high enough in the air and spreads his attention back to May's Blaziken; it's still glowing, and the rattling from underneath its feet grows more powerful. Ash starts to sweat, _'It's still using Focus Energy!' _he shouts inwardly, _'One hit and that's it for Charizard, and its speed is way too much for us.'_

May follows Charizard as it glides through the air, _'Damn it, I gotta get it down here somehow.' _She narrows her eyes back to Blaziken, still pumping up its energy, _'I might need to call it off; I still have the speed advantage, and my Critical is through the roof. All I need is to get that oversized Iguana down.' _She thinks for one final moment, "Blaziken that's enough!" she hollers out. It obeys, flushing out any unnecessary energy, and soon returns from its glowing state; the shaking ground subsides.

Ash takes advantage of this opportunity, "Charizard use Inferno!" Flapping freely in the air, Charizard homes in on the Blaziken, and relinquishes a massive amount of flames; the ever growing heat towers across the entire stadium; its unbearable nature causes many spectators to cough up thick lard from the black smoke. Dashing like a jet, Charizard shows no mercy; for within the smoke, Ash and May stand in the pits of hell itself; circling around them: is an absolute inferno.

May's eyes start to water from the intense heat, and she covers her mouth to cough, _'It's so hot!' _She looks around for Blaziken and sees it standing like a champ on the burning battlefield. "Blaze **cough** Blaziken watch out for any attacks!" she hacks out. All that's visible are the flames and her Pokemon; everything else is lost in redness and smoke; she can hear the crowd, but can't see them. Her heart feels as if it is to burst from her chest; her breathing isn't functioning properly either. Not even hell itself can compare to this.

**ROAR! ROAR! ROAR! **She hears from above and tries to look up, but is bombarded with falling ember landing in her eyes. "Ow!" she screeches, rubbing away at her singed eye sockets; she blinks a few times before recovering. _'What the hell is this!' _she screams mentally, _'Where is Ash!' _She yanks off one of her gloves and dabs away the sweat engulfing her face and cheeks; she then clocks her head around and is greeted by impossibly great flames dancing at all her sides, and she slides her glove back on, "Blaziken!" she calls out; Blaziken turns around to look at her, "Use Sand Attack, and try to get rid of this shit!" It nods and charges upon the flames circling them; it uses its powerful legs to send hundreds of pounds of dirt to cease the fire, and slowly the smoke starts to vanish; May can now see a small section of the crowd. She smirks, "Good, keep doing that! Also, watch out for that Charizard!" She looks upwards, hearing loud flaps, _'It's around here somewhere.' _Even though Blaziken is doing a decent job keeping the flames at bay, she still can't see one hundred percent.

Brendan struggles with vision through the smoke as he sits at the edge of his seat; and a few ticks of sweat drip down his nose, "That Charizard sure is something," comes his admiration for the dragon, "Great fire power." He watches as the large flames continue to flicker around the arena, but notices, _'I think May found a way to get rid of them.' _For from the ashes, he sees Blaziken down below hurling pounds of dirt all throughout the fiery battlefield, _'So, she's using Sand Attack to get rid of the fire. Good job, May.'_

**ROAR! **He suddenly hears coming from a higher level; he vents his attention up to the sound, seeing a flying, shadowy figure through the dense smoke; he returns his focus back to Blaziken, _'Come on, Blaziken! Hurry up!'_

Down below: May continues to struggle with the clogging smoke, "**cough cough **Blaziken **cough **hurry!" Pushing to extreme limits, Blaziken uses its supersonic speed to create a small typhoon of dirt all around the fire, dousing it left and right. May smiles at her Pokemon's loyalty, and within the span of a few seconds, the smoke and fire begin to clear, leaving behind a slight hickory smell; May can now see around her; the crowd cheers loudly, impressed by her feat.

But before she even has a chance to reexamine the situation, Ash calls forth Charizard still flying in the air, "Hit it with Flare Blitz!" Charizard roars and zooms down like a meteor hurtling to earth -fire bruising around its snout, up to its tail- and heads full-blast at Blaziken.

May looks upon the incoming comet, and her heart stops, "Blaz-" too late; Charizard rams into the bird, exploding on impact; and sends it spiraling several meters in the air; it hits the ground with an ultimate force. Silence beams through every single person in the stadium.

Brendan stands up with his mouth caught open; he says nothing. _'Did that just happen?' _He shuts his mouth, but can't shake away his surprise; he sits back down, speechless.

A moment passes, and still silence; until, a random girl is heard shouting, "Way to go, Ash!" She is then followed by her male counterpart.

"Yeah, Ash!" Eventually, everyone in the stadium erupts into sensational cheers; all except Brendan; he stays sitting, trying to overcome what just happened.

Ash can't help but to smile, "Way to go, Charizard!" he shouts to his Pokemon standing victoriously over the fallen Blaziken. Charizard looks at his trainer and smirks fangly.

On the other end of the totem-pole: May feels a dull pain creeping up her neck and violently rubs it off. She then pulls out a lone Poke-ball from her pouch, enlarging it to a size similar to an orange; she takes one more look at her fallen Blaziken and pouts a little, "You did good Blaziken, return!" A red beam shoots from the center of the ball, sucking up the battered Pokemon. She eyeballs the Poke-ball for a moment more, shaking her head slightly, "Hey!" she then calls over to Ash who's embracing the attention of the crowd; he looks at her, "It's not over yet! I still got one more Pokemon left!" She then stuffs the Poke-ball back into her pouch only to retrieve another one, "Go, Kingdra!" she exclaims, heaving the new Poke-ball forward.

Out comes a large blue sea dragon. May smirks at Ash's surprised face, _'My turn!' _ The crowd applauds. "Kingdra use Hydro Pump on that overgrown lizard!" she shouts, thrusting her arm outwards to add effect. Kingdra's body begins to inflate like a balloon, filling with liquid, and in time: a colossal rush of water blasts from it tight, circular snout, whizzing across the field like a race car towards Ash's Charizard.

His eyes widen as the lightning fast attack approaches, but that's all he has time to do; it collides with Charizard in a whirlpool of hurt in under half a second. The dragon roars in agony. "Charizard hang in there!" shouts Ash, tightening his hands into fists, biting his bottom lip, _'Damn it!' _

"No mercy!" adds May, smiling at Kingdra's power as it continues to cruelly flush out Charizard with its mighty water attack. All around: the crowd is watching in awe, cheering, applauding, wanting more! May can tell easily by the way Charizard is groaning: its final card has been played, and there is nothing Ash can do; there's just no way. "Keep pumping it, Kingdra!" she encourages; it obeys; more water hoses down the stadium.

Ash stands petrified, not sure what to do, "Char- uh..." They know it, May knows it, and now he knows it: there is nothing he can do. He takes in a hard gulp, straining his eyes into a lock of anger, and forcefully shouts, "Enough!" Silence. Nobody can believe what they just heard; especially May.

"Kingdra stop!" she shouts unsure, listening to Ash's surrender. The Pokemon halts its assault, and Charizard remains standing with a shock-like, painful expression clearing its face; water drips from its snout and tail, and it eventually falls under the quietness of the stadium, shaking the ground beneath its massive size. It lets out one final grunt before closing its eyes. Charizard is out cold.

Dead silence scapes across the stadium like a plague, and no one dares to speak out; they don't know what to say. They should be cheering... shouldn't they? What just happened wasn't on anyone's radar -not even Brendan's.

Ash shakes off the animosity pledging itself to him; he then takes out Charizard's Poke-ball, "Charizard return!" The fainted Pokemon is then retrieved from the field; he says nothing else.

Misty looks down to her friend in astonishment, "I can't believe that actually happened. Ash surrendering? Who would've guessed."

"Well, it's better than having Charizard put into a coma," states Brock, crossing his arms.

"I guess." Misty starts to dwindle her gaze around the stadium, seeing bewildered faces all around. "Looks like nobody was expecting it."

Brock agrees, "Guess not."

Above the two friends: Brendan remains sitting, happiness clinging to his face, "Awesome job!" he finally yells standing up to clap, breaking the silence. Soon, the people next to him slowly retract from their seats, clapping also. In the short span of a moment, the entire stadium consents from their consternation and chant loudly in satisfaction; everything's back on track.

May smiles gleefully from all their support, and turns her head around, seeing Brendan clapping for her too. She waves to him, sticking her thumb up in the air; he smiles and waves back, motioning with his lips: "_Good job."_ She winks at her friend, and soon returns her attention back to Ash. _'It's not over yet," _she thinks, seeing her opponent already reaching for a new Poke-ball.

"I choose you, Pikachu!" Ash shouts, throwing the Poke-ball with tenacious force; it rolls upon the field for a moment, and then like a flash: it snaps open.

"Pikachu!" screeches the little, electrifying mouse Pokemon standing ready for action; the crowd cheers.

May emerges with a cutesy face, "Aw!" she squeals, stomping her feet playfully, "It's so adorable!"

Pikachu watches the disturbing scene illuminating from the strange girl, "Pika?" It then looks around to Ash: he just shrugs.

Brendan mentally slaps himself as he watches his friend hyperventilate from Pokemon cuteness overload, _'Here we go again...' _

Realizing something while in trance mode, May suddenly stops praising the little mouse, and her once gushy face hardens into displeasure, "How could you send out such an innocent Pokemon?" she scolds, now glaring death row at Ash.

He jumps back, "Hey no reason to get all touchy; Pikachu isn't gonna have a problem with that wimpy Kingdra!"

She laughs; her face lighting up, "Is that so?" and smirks devilishly, "Kingdra use Smokescreen on that little runt!" Kingdra obeys like the good Pokemon it is, puffing out dense smog from its snout.

"Pikachu use Agility!" Like a mini-rocket, Pikachu zips through the field, dodging the Smokescreen without breaking a sweat. Its master smiles, "That a-way! Now use Thunderbolt!" Pikachu begins absorbing the electricity from the sacks in its cheeks; powerful sparks of yellow emit from its outer image.

It strains its body: clenching its teeth, squeezing its stubby paws as the electric circuit intensifies inside it, "Piii!" it starts to scream; May looks on in horror, "Kaaa!" HERE IT COMES! However, right before the last syllable is spoken, May amusingly grins, "Chuuu!" Exploding from its tiny body, comes an epic proportion of lightning. The bolt strikes the ground in a loud clash, leaving behind burnt dirt. After the smoke gives-way the Kingdra is no where in sight.

Ash's mouth hangs open, glaring at where the Kingdra should be laying -but only sees black dirt- "Where'd it go!" he shouts hideously angry -the same can be said for Pikachu.

May giggles, and then without saying anything, points up.

He follows her point snarlingly, and sees her Pokemon in all its glory flying in the air; he shivers; he's never seen a Kingdra fly before... and it's frightening! May is undoubtedly one of the best Pokemon trainers he's ever encountered, and this unbelievable sight proves it. It takes some time before the crowd even realizes the flying Pokemon, but when they do: they go insane!

Both: Misty and Brock look upon the spectacle, lost in amazement -along with everyone else- "H-h-how did she do that? How did the Kingdra do that? What's going on here!" Misty questions with an intolerable instinct.

Brock squabbles around with his words, "I-I don't... know..." He says nothing else, just watches.

Even though everyone else is baffled by the Kingdra's ability, Brendan: not so much. He watches as it continues to hover in the air, _'Looks like she finally did it,' _he starts to think, _'Didn't think it was possible, but like always, she proves me wrong.'_

"Kingdra use Twister!" the female trainer shouts to her flying Pokemon. Kingdra immediately begins to build power; winds start to pick up, dusting dirt everywhere. May covers her eyes from the vortex. The excrement of the forming tornado flings all around the stadium; many spectators shield their faces, avoiding getting any in their eyes.

Ash blocks the dirt away with his forearm; he squints, looking for Pikachu, "Pikachu!" he bitingly shouts; no answer; all he sees is the sandstorm in front of him. He feels nauseated with worry and calls out again, much louder, "Pikachu!" Nothing...

"Pika Pi!" he hears out of nowhere; Ash then frantically glances around for his lost buddy, looking beyond the barrier of the tornado.

"Pikachu!" he answers the call to his Pokemon. Slowly, Ash begins to see a zigzag-like tail emerge from the storm, "Pikachu hurry up this way!" he tells the struggling Pokemon, motioning his hands to himself.

Pikachu puts as much force into its legs as possible, defying all odds in an attempt to reach its master. Its face is blemished with a stinging gnaw as it continues coming closer; the winds rapidly increase; more dust lifts up from the field -dirt isn't the best taste in the world; Pikachu gags, eventually coughing some up.

Ash notices his Pokemon's suffering, "Pikachu are you okay!"

"Pika!" comes its sick-like response. The distance between them begins to lessen as the winds strengthen even more so. It's becoming almost unbearable for the small mouse Pokemon to withstand; Pikachu trips on its paws, "Pi!" it cries, trying to get up, but the twister is too much! Pikachu is swept away from the powerful attack, "Chaaaaaaaa!" the scream dies out as Pikachu disappears into the sandy abyss.

"Pikachu!" Ash reaches out a hand, but the Pokemon is already gone. Realizing this, he furiously stiffs his arm back down to his side, "Damn it! What now?"

**=0=**

A random door swings open to a dull, unknown office less lively than a graveyard; in steps a man cloaked fully in red. He hastily chambers up to a wooden desk marked with a large 'M' on the front, and is greeted by a back of a chair, "Sir," the man says, saluting under his red cap, "It is just as you said; our plans will be flawless. Right now as we speak: it is the perfect time to strike. Requesting orders now, sir."

The chair squeaks around chillingly, revealing another man also clothed in red -but much more darker... more sinister: like blood. This man nods, stands up quieter than a ghost, and walks to the back of the unlighted room; there: he presses a button. The walls quickly begin to disassemble, showing stars shining beautifully through thick glass; it lightens the room to a shady pearl color. The man then beholds the great view that stretches across for countless miles; he hears the Blimp's propellers humming in the background as he stands suspended high above the bright stadium lights, he smiles wickedly, "Cash it in, Captain," says his deep voice.

"Yes, sir!" the Captain responds, saluting again; and exits without further questions.

When the door shuts, the man starts to laugh murderously; and gazes up to the moon encrusted sky with a sneer darker than his hair, "You will be my mine..." he bulges his pale hands into fists, "This I swear..."


	5. Chapter 5: Invasion

**Chapter 5! Enjoy!**

* * *

This is bad... this is_ really _bad; Ash looks around desperately through the fierce sand storm evolving right before his eyes, "Pikachu!" he tries calling out, but ends up getting sand lodged down his throat; he coughs into the bend of his arm, "**cough cough**." The wind whips past his ears as the twister grows in power, and tedious allergies begin to creep their way into his head; his nose scruffs up; more so his eyes. "Pika-" he holds back a sneeze, "Pikachu!" No answer. He slams his palms hard against his forehead, gritting his teeth all the same, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Brock," Misty, who's holding compelled over the scene, looks to her friend in hope, "Can you see him?"

Brock shakes his head, "No, the storm is too much. Look at it! It's powerful." All anyone can see is a great sandy sphere revolving at extreme rates upon the open field as it encircles the two young trainers below. "May's Kingdra..." he shakes his head again but more slowly, more stunned, and his pitch changes to a low mumble, "It's just... wow."

Misty starts to bite her nails, watching from the safety of her seat with worry-filled eyes; she doesn't speak, but she knows in her heart: Ash and Pikachu are in trouble.

And right she is; for Brendan is just as expectant -or more so- of the probable defeat that's about to be granted upon the male trainer. In spite of this however, Brendan has realized Ash is indeed a formidable opponent and has been enthralled by this match fully. As he watches from his seating, he pushes his rendering focus to the dust cloud covering the battleground with its breathtaking winds. He doesn't see May nor Ash; and not even their Pokemon; this cloud of wind is just too thick and too fast. And it surprises him that it hasn't expanded beyond its original borders -not to say that's bad, just surprising.

There isn't any doubt in Brendan's mind: May's skills have definitely surpassed that of his own. It's just as expected as anything else, but he does feel slightly discouraged. He supposes that being top dog over his friend for so many years has caused him to develop a swelled head, and tonight just so happened to be the night it popped. Pushing thoughts aside, Brendan mutters emptiness from his heavy lungs as he continues to engage himself to Kingdra's storm. Tiny straggles of sand fling onto his eyelashes; he rubs the bits away, "It's just getting stronger and stronger," he says, still rubbing his eye red. He can't even imagine what Ash must be suffering right now.

If he could, Ash would actually try and save Pikachu from the twister, but sadly, Pokemon League Rules state that any interference from a Pokemon's master is an automatic disqualification, and that's the last thing he needs on his record. Ash discloses all urges to help his Pokemon; he must be calm, patient, and wait for it to blow over. It can't be helped now, and he knows that.

He shuts his eyes as more sand tracks onto his skin; he recites a simple request -if anyone will even hear him- "Please keep Pikachu safe." He opens his eyes once more; nothing has changed. The wind is still blowing through his clothes, the sand is still watering down his eyes -making him squint-, and Pikachu is still no where in sight. Ash laughs weakly into a grumble, "No surprise there." He embraces his inevitable defeat; he's not stupid; he knows when he has lost. If going through all his challenges and struggles has taught him anything: it's never deny destiny. And his destiny is to lose. And there is nothing he can do about it. Nothing.

**=0=**

"When mortal men were brought to this earth, they served a purpose; a cause. And depending who they were, their purposes may have been different. But luckily for us, gentlemen, we are not normal, mortal men. We are destined rulers of this world, and that is our purpose. Team Magma's purpose."

Captain Jenkins: a man of ruthlessness and a man to fear, walks before many men as they dress into their attires for tonight's invasion. Standard uniform inspection requires all members to wear red masks covering their faces, leaving just enough space for their eyes; and the Captain is without exception. For the rules are simple in Team Magma's Blimp Unit: fast, faster, and fastest. If you are fast get faster, if you are faster become the fastest, if you are the fastest: that's not possible. They are the elite; they are the ones to fear, the ones to run from; and to them: "The rulers of this world."

The day looks can kill, is the day Jenkins will take over; because as he walks through the long corridor, inspecting each individual closely, his scowl cowers even the bravest of men. Cloaked in red, eyes without soul, teeth without white, ears sharper than an elf, a chin that could break diamond, Jenkins is to fear. He stomps through with utmost arrogance; he doesn't look down, you look up. And he stops, turning his head -eyes holding more hatred than Satan- "Darrel," he growls under his cap.

The scrawny Private loads around faster than a machine gun and salutes while gulping, "S-s-sir," he manages to spit out.

Jenkins stares deeply into the young man's terrified eyes; everyone is silent as they watch in fear for the new recruitment. Jenkins, without second thought, then bucks up to the Private, "Look up when I'm talking to you, boy."

Snap, Darrel listens without hesitation, "E-excuse me sir, d-didn't mean to." He coughs down another crispy gulp.

Silence. Jenkins says nothing for what feels like minutes; until, something unexpected happens: he places his hand on the Private's shoulder and snarls, "I'm glad we understand each other. If you follow me, we will accomplish great things." The Private nods in understanding; Jenkins then reaches down to hand the young man his mask. "Wear it proud; for tonight we will accomplish a great feat." With that said, the Captain leaves his men to their duties; they know what to do.

Everywhere Jenkins goes, they're men who salute him; he's harsh but respected. He journeys through dozens of long hallways and rooms, inspecting every nook and cranny. Five more minutes. He can feel the Blimp start to lower as the clock ticks down; he's trained his men well. Failure is not an option.

Inspection is finished. Jenkins likes what he saw, and it gives him great pleasure to know his men are loyal. And with that pleasure: he heads up a set of metal stairs to the second level, walks through empty lounging hallways, and enters a small room to his right. Walls are painted red, and the wooden tile of oak trees pave this room; he steps in.

A bed, dresser, and a few pictures occupy most of the space. He takes his time and sits at the edge of the bed and fishes through his cloak's pocket, pulling out a mask. He sighs and removes his Captain's hat and places it beside him on the bed; he then pushes back the brown bush on top his head and snugs the red mask perfectly. Not even five feet in front of him, hangs a long mirror; sitting on the bed still, Jenkins engages the reflection before him. His mask hides the shame of his features, but not the coldness of his eyes that can make the mirror crack. His red cloak drags upon the wooden tile; his Magma shirt is black as coal, and his pants and boots resemble this same color of death.

"Captain," he hears coming from the small microphone implanted on his shirt.

He springs up from the bed and heads out the room's door, locking it. "Is it time, Sergeant?" he asks, walking down the steps back to the first level.

A slight pause annoys Jenkins, but then, "Yes, sir. The bombs have been planted. Awaiting orders."

He opens the final door of a stretched hallway to a very large room; he sees his men all ready with their masks; he nods to them; they nod back. He then yanks up his collar to his mouth, "Blast it, Sergeant. Blast the hell out of it."

"Sir," comes the response, and more so in the background, "You heard the Captain. Blast it!"

**=0=**

The storm starts to dwindle out. "Pikachu!" Ash takes this opportunity as an attempt to reach his Pokemon with his voice. To no avail. "Damn it, Pikachu; answer me!" he shouts at nothing, but the storm. Moments pass by; all that is heard is the base of the winds as it begins to wisp away; just like his dreams: fades.

"Pika!" a sickly scream comes forth from the storm, making Ash retreat from his helplessness in a manner of fright. Pikachu is out there lost and hurting as it screams. "Pika! Pika!"

Every emotion in Ash's body floods his veins; he can't see his Pokemon -for only the storm of sand blocks his way- but hearing its pitiful screams is enough. "Pikachu hang in there!" that's all he is able to shout. That's all he can do: shout. He can't run in there to help because of ludicrous regulations. And also, he knows Pikachu wouldn't want him to. Just like himself, Pikachu has developed a sense of pride that can only be quenched by victory. And if victory is not obtainable -as it is now- then losing with dignity, and not relying on others, is the only outcome worth appreciating.

And to May: this victory will be greatly appreciated. The young woman trainer stands behind her Kingdra as it flies through the sand-stormed air; she notices that it's becoming exhausted, resulting in its attack weakening. "Kingdra!" she then calls to her Pokemon, "That's enough with that! There isn't any way Pikachu made it!" She tightens her bandanna's knot for another time -the winds has loosened it- and blinks out some sand from her lashes. She wipes off her clothes, and small puffs of dirt sprinkle down to the ground. The same goes with her face; however, no amount of grime can cover her blissful cheeks because she knows tonight is her night. She is the victor.

Kingdra listens to its master and concludes the unrelenting beast of an attack. It takes a few seconds of continuous winds and sand before the twister eventually withers away; the Kingdra then returns back to the surface in front of its trainer.

The stadium then enters a pose of silence as the sand is cast back into the earth. Everyone: Brendan, May, Misty, Brock, Ash, and everyone else watch with heavy hearts as their vision slowly returns. Through the dusty atmosphere, they eventually see a sight that wasn't unexpected: Pikachu is laying deathly in the center of the stadium; its once lively zig-zag tail has fallen limp, and its spark has gone. Not so much of a gasp later, the crowd excitingly cheers for their victor: May.

Ash isn't shocked in the least bit; he knew this was going to happen, but having to bare watching his best friend lay there motionless is heart-wrenching. He then unintentionally collapses to the cracks of his knees and says nothing. There isn't anything to say. He's not sure if what he feels is sadness or disappointment, but he doesn't care. He lost. It's over. Sucking it up as best he can, Ash adjusts his hat frontwards and bitterly stands up.

They had once believed Ash could win. But now, Brock and Misty realize it wasn't meant to be. Both friends stand up to clap -being good sports- and Misty looks to Brock, "Always next time?" Trying to lighten the mood is quite difficult.

Brock sighs, "Always next time."

There lies no doubt in Brendan's mind as he claps for his friend and Ash: "Great match!" he shouts with every other cheer beside him. He keeps clapping as a referee comes running out right on cue to the field holding up a green flag on May's side.

"Winn-" **BOOM! **An explosion of inexorable destruction clashes from the stadium's roof; in that second of unknowingness, everyone immediately runs and panic. Chaos has now reared its ugly head from the night in ways of explosions.

Brendan stays standing as he beholds dozens of men blurring red, scale down from the demolished roof with ropes all throughout the stadium. "Shit!" he shouts. He then leaps from row to row: over chairs and people. He can see May down there with Kingdra, "Hold on, May! I'm coming!" He will not allow his friend to be hurt. _'They better not touch her.'_

Ash doesn't hesitate to react either; he bolts like a rocket to his hurt Pokemon. Men from all sides assail down beside him; he shoves through them, almost tripping. He can see Pikachu; he's so close. He reaches out his hand, "Pika-" lights out. One of the men bashes in the young trainer's scull with an unforgiving fist. Ash's teeth embrace the dirt as he slides unconscious.

This same man then crushes Ash's ribcage with a grinding boot. "Dumb kid," he gripes with a scowl, and takes Pikachu.

"Kingdra Hydro Pump that bastard!" That's all the man hears before being drowned in a burst of water. He loses grip of Pikachu as he is shot into a concrete wall. His entire body is implanted into a crater; he groans under his mask and falls face first into the ground.

May smiles and holds a thumbs up to her Pokemon, "Good-" Just like Ash: another man in red knocks the girl out on contact. She crumbles to her knees, and then into a peaceful slumber.

Kingdra sees this and charges furiously at the man; his mask indents by his smile, and he pulls out a small net gun from his pocket; and laughs as he pulls the trigger. The charging Pokemon is then tripped by the giant net and is forced down to the ground. It struggles around grunting in anger, but can't escape. The man then hooks the gun back to his side and latches a high-tech device onto the net, programming it with clicks of buttons. He pats Kingdra's head; it glares at him, "Don't get so upset," he tells it. Kingdra isn't tolerating any of that; it squirts the man's eyes with scorching water. "Ow!" he screams, swatting at his burning eyes; in his fit of pain: he trips and lands on his back. Kingdra neighs in laughter.

The pirate thief stands up in slight embarrassment. However, that embarrassment soon turns into rage, and that rage turns into: him grabbing a taser from his back pocket, and growls, "Laugh at this!" A shock-wave of electrical pain surges into the laughing Pokemon; it shakes as it is zapped, but the net keeps it locked in place. The man laughs like a hyena, "How'd you like that?" He does it again without mercy, and again, and again, and again; until, he finally approaches the near death Pokemon and squats beside it. Kingdra doesn't move, and its heart is barely beating as a tear drops down its snout; the man doesn't care: he spits in its face, "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." He then drills his foot into its stomach and leaves. And soon stumbles upon the fainted Pikachu, "Well, aren't you cute?" his scowl blends into his words.

Hurting, Pikachu half opens one eye, "P...Pika..." it hushes from its lips before being taken by the man.

There isn't a single person in the waves of the crowd not trying to escape; they all scurry to the multiple exits around the arena, but all end with the same fate: blockades by the men in red. None dares to fight them: for each pirate possesses a handgun.

"What are we supposed to do!"

"How do we get out!"

"What's happening!"

"Where's my mom!"

All these shouts of helplessness touch every brick in the stadium.

"Excuse me!"

"Watch it!"

"Sorry!" Brendan apologizes as he bumps into more people; they give him the same glare. He doesn't stop though; he runs with everything he possesses through the chaos: dodges more people, jumps down a few more rows; he can't stop. No matter how bad his legs burn, he _can not _stop.

He sees the bottom railing; he's almost there. All he can do now is hope May is well, _'I'm almost there, May. Please be okay.' _Even though she might be annoying at times -well, most of the time- he really does care for her. "Friends till' the end," they'd often say in the past, and it proves true. He smiles thinking about it, _'Friends till' the end.' _And he doesn't stop thinking about it until he arrives to the railing, "Shit, May!" he shouts through the screams. His eyes widen in their horror of seeing his friend knocked out on the harsh ground. He turns to his anger for sanctuary, but by this time: he feels a muscular arm slither around his neck like a snake and pull him down into a tight choke. He grabs the arm with all his strength, trying his best to recover lost air. He then hears a cackle of laughter.

"You're a fighter, huh boy?" Brendan is then slung around into a even tighter choke-hold, leaving his assailant vulnerable to the railing behind them.

He sees this as a live-or-die chance; and so, he takes it. He squirms around fiercely with his legs, finally managing to back his suppressor into the railing. "Y...you... got that right," he chokingly says before elbowing the man's stomach with more power than a train. Brendan hears the man whistle in agony as he releases him; without any more thinking, Brendan shoves the man straight off the railing and sends him spiraling down like a rock to his demise.

"No!" The man splats the ground carving it in blood.

Brendan steps back with terror written across his face, "I-I killed him." He's never killed a man in his life, and to have blood on his hands is a dreadful filling; even if it was self-defense. His body shivers from the adrenaline pulsating through his veins; his head hurts now. But he can't stop to despair, he still has to get to May before anyone else does. He forces himself to look back down through the arena -looking over the dead body- and is glad to see that he isn't fully alone. Instead of leaving, dozens of other trainers have arrived as backup. Grass-types, water-types, fire-types: they're all down there fighting intensely with whoever these unknown bandits are.

He supposes it's only fair to send out his own Pokemon in the effort. He unzips his bag quickly, and pulls out a single Poke-ball, and tosses it from the rail, "Go, Swampert!" he yells. The ball hits the ground as it bursts open with red aura, and a fairly large water-type Pokemon arrives upon the chaotic battle zone. It looks directly with power-lusted eyes at its master above. Brendan smirks, "Swampert I need you to help! Hit anything that needs hitting! And don't slack either!" its master commands loudly.

Swampert understands, and proves it by immediately taking down a man sneaking up behind Brendan with its water cannon. Brendan ducks like a frightened goose as the man is catapulted across the air. When he stumbles back to his feet, Brendan nods with a tang bit of surprise, "Just like that." Swampert seems to chuckle, and it runs off to assist in the fights spurring below.

Brendan finds May still in her vulnerable position, and nobody has yet to help her; they're too busy with other issues. Without wasting anymore time, he shuffles through the masses and arrives at the stair tunnel. He nearly springs off of them he's going so fast, but luckily, he keeps a barred grip on the rails. He stomps down each concrete step with unresolved force as he sees the bright light of the arena glowing from the bottom of the tunnel. Ten more steps. Five.

But before the final step is reached, Brendan finds himself in the presence of the enemy: a man with a red cloak wearing an identical mask to the others. Brendan looks into the man's godless eyes and for reasons unknown: feels frightened. Something is not right with this man blocking his path, and Brendan can sense it. He dares not speak -for one word might kill him- and he dares not to move. His heart pounces up his throat, and he flushes it down with a gulp. Not a single word is spoken between them, but there is sweat -sweat of fear coming from Brendan.

This man moves with a sudden thrust forward, and Brendan shifts back at the same time. A flashed glare comes to life on the man's face. "Get out of my way," comes his voice in a growl.

Brendan is absolutely tricked on what to do: Move or Stay? Move: he might not make it in time for May. Stay: there isn't any telling. First glance at this man, Brendan knows he's a murderer -a down to the bone killer.

"I said get out of my way!" the man barks with anger; and grabs Brendan's arm, throwing him away like trash. Brendan lands hard on his palms, and the man shadows over him, "If I ever see you again, I won't be as merciful." Nothing about his tone is joking.

Brendan nods to the best of his ability, and the man then continues his way without a mere murmur. He sulks in his own fright for a moment as he stays on the concrete, but fumblingly stands up when he remembers May. He can use a warm face like hers right about now. The man has vanished from sight, and only now does Brendan realize how lucky he was not to be hurt; or worse: killed. Erasing any shivers and worries, Brendan escapes out of the tunnel and onto the stadium's ground.

**=0=**

Trainers. Men in red. Pokemon. They're every on the field. Water-types using Hydro Pumps; Fire-types using Flamethrowers and Flare Blitzes; Grass-types: Razorleafs; and trainers -good and evil- calling commands from all edges. But despite all this, Brendan can still see that one person as she lays unmoving on the field. And as he runs to her -dodging trainers and their Pokemon- his focus is solely on that single person.

After his struggles, he finally makes it to her, "May," he says with urgency; and kneels down beside the unconscious girl: her only response is closed eyes covered in silence. He tries shaking her, "May get up!" his voice raises as so the urgency. No good. He looks around, but then like a misguided missile, remembers the other trainer. "Ash!" he shouts for this revelation; and sees him also not moving a couple of meters away. But that burden is soon lifted as Brendan sees the orange haired girl that he met not too long ago, as well partnered by the older male, arrive to the scene with as much worry as himself.

"Ash!" shouts the girl, shaking him violently, "Wake up!" She receives the same reply as he had. But unlike Brendan, the older gentleman behind the girl takes matters into his own hands. He scoops up their friend and throws him dangling over his shoulder.

Brendan looks down to May and grimaces, _'She's not going to like this,' _and picks up the limped body -arms going every which way- and throws the damsel over his shoulder. But as she is on him, Brendan sees a disturbing sight, "Kingdra!" Her Pokemon: netted, with eyes closed.

He journeys over fast-paced, "What happened, buddy?" he whispers in a disbelieved expression. No answer. He carefully places May down and pulls out a tiny pocket knife. He then grabs hold of the net, but is shocked when: "It's not cutting!" He speeds up his slices, but it doesn't help. And starts to grow furious, "What kind of netting is this?" he scoffs a question. Rolling his eyes in strain, Brendan dispatches the knife back into his pocket. "Just-" he groans, "Just wait, okay? I need to get May out of here." Saddened that he can't do anything to save Kingdra, Brendan retrieves the girl, "I won't be long. I promise," he tells the Pokemon in a voice of hope.

He looks around the battle zone frantically and notices that the orange haired female has left with Ash in tow. He'd better do the same. And he starts to feel a dull pain creep into his shoulder by May's dead-weight, "Getting a little heavy there, May," he chuckles -luckily, she's knocked out- and sees a narrow, dark hallway constructed in the stadium's wall on the opposite end. This might have a place to drop her off: janitor's closet, bathroom, somewhere. And since all the exits are blocked, this is his only option.

Brendan slacks nothing as he crosses the bathed field of battles and arrives to his destination unscathed. He takes a step into the dark passageway of concrete and marbled flooring; and with a quick pop to adjust May; he journeys through without a word. As he continues, there isn't any spot deemed suitable for his friend -as the sounds of battle slowly die out. Luckily, the stadium's lights possess just enough glow to keep the hallway lit a good ways. _'I need somewhere to put her...' _and as he thinks this: he finds himself in the sight of a small janitor's closet to his left. He's quite relieved and turns the handle of the wooden door. It's locked. "Crap!" But right when he is about to turn away: he hears a muffled voice from behind the door.

"Who is it?" it whispers in an innocent tone; Brendan has definitely heard that voice before.

He reapproaches with a voice of trustworthiness, "It's Brendan. You know: the guy that helped you at the Pokemon Center."

Nothing is spoken; it's as if the door itself is thinking about what to do. Then, with a sharp click, the door decides to swing open and reveal three teenagers occupying space behind it. "Hurry up and get in here," whispers the girl quickly. Brendan answers with a hurried scramble; and the girl latches the door shut and locks it tight.

Right away, Brendan is enclosed in the smallness of the space: brooms, dustpans, anything else expected in a janitor's closet; and sees Ash huddled in a corner drooling; he sits May beside the drooling boy. He then wipes off his shirt -as if cleansing himself from the unfolding destruction outside; and with a moment of silence: he looks to the other conscious beings, and asks, "What is going on out there?"

The older gentleman does not answer. "We have no clue," but the girl of orange hair does. "What are we supposed to do?" she then goes on to ask.

"What can we do?" an unexpected question is delivered by the eldest.

Brendan removes his white hat and runs his hand through a dark jumbledness of black; and rests against the wall with a sigh, "The only thing we _can_ do is either wait or fight." His observation shushes the room to graveyard silence. All three think for a moment. "So... you guys decided yet?" Brendan questions as he slips back on his hat.

They nod their heads, but not with enthusiasm. "I say we fight," deems the girl.

"I think so too," adds the older.

Brendan smirks as he stands up from the wall, "Alright. So, if we're going to do this: we need to leave at least a Pokemon here with these two." He looks at May and Ash sitting limped in the corner. "Any volunteers?"

The girl doesn't wait; she zips open her small backpack and takes out a Poke-ball, "I can send out Starmie," she offers.

Brendan thinks for a quick second, "That'll work."

She nods with understanding and releases her starfish-like Pokemon from its ball. It looks around with a surprised batter feeling: a small room, a person its never seen before, and hot, sweaty air as it breaths; not exactly a beach house. It then beholds its girly master. "Starmie," she says, "I need you to stay in here with Ash and that girl." Starmie stays quiet, but its sudden movement to the two knocked out trainers shows its willingness to help. And they're all grateful.

"Alright!" proclaims Brendan as he passes the girl to the door. "Ready?" he asks, looking directly at them.

They nod willingly.

Brendan then unlocks the door and barely creeps it open, but his effort doesn't keep the darkness from rolling in by the hallway. He checks down through the cracked opening and doesn't see anything; and with nothing blocking their path, he opens the door fully. "Let's go," he whispers to the two behind him, "Stay along the walls and keep quiet." They obey his instructions, and all three exit the room slowly against the cool bricked wall as the girl closes the door.

An eerie feeling stretches from each one; they can see the dimmed lights of the arena, but can't hear anything beyond it. Total silence. They try their bests to keep their footsteps quiet as they continue, but the marbling of the flooring makes any sort of efforts a challenge -every so often: one of them falls victim to a squeak by their shoe.

"Sorry," whispers the girl on the end, recovering from her sudden foot slip.

"Shh..." Brendan wisps to her, "Keep quiet; we're almost there." Her silence proves she understands.

They make their journey in as much silence as possible; and closer the arena lights approach: the quieter the atmosphere grows. "Why is it so quiet?" the girl can't help but finally ask.

"I don't... know..." Brendan answers with long thought. "Just-" he pauses "Just stay quiet, okay? We don't need any trouble." Again, her silence proves she understands.

When they gradually arrive to the halls opening, they halt with shock. "Oh no..." Brendan mumbles with his mouth slightly hung, "I can't believe this..." Under the lights of the arena: trainers and Pokemon alike lay sprawled out on the ground -trainers are knocked out, and Pokemon lay wasted in nets all over. It's a horrendous sight.

"What are we supposed to do now?" asks the girl as she reaches Brendan.

He thinks hard. "Nothing..." he says; it burns his throat, "I mean, what can we do?" No answer comes from any of them, but silence is broken by a loud voice from the arena's highest platform.

"Attention!" it boasts in a threatening manner to the crowd that's still conscious, but too scared to speak. "You fools have made this way too hard on yourselves. It could've been easy, and no one would have been hurt," the voice turns more shallow and angry, "And to have one of my men killed in such a barbaric way disgusts me!"

Brendan flinches at the man's words; he remembers that voice, and it will haunt him for eternity.

The man continues: "And because of my loss, I wouldn't mind killing every single one of you right now!" The crowd pleads for mercy in tears. This evil man smiles greatly under his mask. "Shut up!" Instant silence. "But luckily for you, I am a merciful man; and I dare not waste the energy slaughtering future slaves. For remember this: Team Magma are the rulers of this pitiful world, and you shall all obey us. Or die!" He starts to laugh more evilly than that of his voice. And he steps down from the platform as the whole stadium erupts into pleads and cries for help.

Brendan, Brock, and Misty can't believe what is happening. And they continue to watch with grief as all the men in red activate some sort of device on their shoes and jet up through the missing roof. But not only this, but the Pokemon begin to be hijacked into the air by their nets. "No!" shouts Brendan; and he bolts forward with fury. He sees May's Kingdra being lifted, but his heart sinks even more when he sees Swampert dangling for its freedom in the air. "Swampert!" he calls to it as loud as he can, but it doesn't hear him. His anger drops him to his knees as the men and Pokemon vanish from existence.

Between each gasp of angered filled air, Brendan suddenly feels a soft hand reach his tensed shoulder. "Come on... we need to get your friend and Ash," the voice tells him in a calm, but regretted, manner.

He stands up without a voice, and his hands shake by sharped fists; he turns around as his anger climaxes, but seeing the girl's warm face and smile calms him. He sighs and says with little hope, "You're right. Let's go."

**=0=**

By this time: the entire crowd has ran scrambling through the exits in loads. And dozens of loud sirens are heard for several miles while bright lights of blue and red coat thickly around the stadium: ambulances have come to retrieve the fainted trainers, and police have arrived for the protection and the witnesses of the atrocity that has just occurred.

Brendan is one of the many to emerge from the stadium with May settled in his arms, and is stunned by all the lights, and people, and expressions of fear among them all through the cold night. He then breaks through the scene with forced steps onward and comes upon an ambulance and stretcher occupied by friendly paramedics.

One of them looks to Brendan with an easy expression offering, "Sorry about your friend, kid." He then prepares the stretcher, "Put her down, slowly."

Brendan acts upon which he was requested and carefully places his friend down, but does so with great sadness; the paramedic comes around and straps her in. He then looks at her closed eyes for a second and feels guilty that he couldn't do anything to protect her. But soon, his guilt evolves into a thirst for revenge as she is lifted into the back of the ambulance; he watches when the paramedics shut the door, _'Don't worry, May. I will get Kingdra back, and I promise nothing else will ever happen to you again.'_

The paramedic halts for a time in front of Brendan before leaving, "She is being taken to the Hoenn Regional Hospital a few miles from here -in Mauville City."

"Thank you," Brendan replies with more halfheartedness than ever, "Take care of her."

The paramedic smiles warmly, "We will; don't worry," and leaves Brendan by himself as the ambulance drives off into a massive sea of blue and red.

**=0=**

Brock and Misty walk side-by-side with their best friend as he is rolled out of the stadium on a stretcher. Misty bites her bottom lip hard out of headache; she can't bare to see Ash like this and neither can Brock. They glance down to their buddy of no words as they continue through all this craziness of blaring sirens and flashing lights.

And Misty loses her breath to a cold gasp when Ash's eyes crack open with weakness, "M...Misty..." his voice comes in a hush.

Misty grips his hand, "What is it, Ash?"

He longs for an answer to her question, but his head hurts with terrible pain, and his limbs ache more and more as the stretcher hits sharp bumps on the pavement. And so, he speaks with as much power as he possibly can, "W...where's... Pikachu?" Before he can hear her response, Ash is cast back into the darker blackness of his eyelids.

Misty feels a harsh churning in her stomach as they reach the ambulance, "I don't know, Ash... I don't know..."


End file.
